For Lack of a Better Name
by Dolphingirl32173
Summary: Damon decides to use Stefan's call to clean up the mess he had made in turning Vicki Donovan into a vampire as a perfectly valid excuse to kidnap both Elena and Teddy before leaving Mystic Falls fading from the rearview mirror of his Camaro. FULL SUMMARY INSIDE! Damon/Elena
1. Kidnapped

For Lack of a Better Name  
DG32173

Sarah: my muse inspired me to write an absolutely insane fanfic starring our favorite couple and use what you see above as the title. Without further ado, on with the show.

_**DISCLAIMER**_  
This will be the only one for the whole fanfic, so pay attention lawyers and staff of Fanfiction. If I claim a concept before the chapter it appears in, then I am quite certain the way in which that concept is portrayed belongs to me. If I give credit for a concept or scene to someone else before the chapter it appears in, then _they_ are the one who gave me the idea for it and it belongs at least in part to them. If neither of these things occur, it is quite safe to assume that what you read is so widely used in fanfics that I have no idea who came up with it. But in saying that last line, I must also say that _Vampire Diaries,_ its cast, Mystic Falls, and the scene that I use to start this alternate universe are all owned by L. J. Smith and the writers for the TV series. Now, there is your disclaimer. As I said, this is the only one you will see in this fanfic so don't expect another one.

_**WARNINGS**_  
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! Alters from the Season 1, Episode 7, "Haunted". In the beginning of the fanfic, Damon _still_ has his humanity switch flipped off and Elena _still_ hates him. So be ready for some major setbacks for our lovebirds to overcome. Also, rated M for scenes that are truly acceptable for 'mature' audiences _only._ This story is told from alternating first-person perspectives between Damon and Elena though will be primarily told from Damon's perspective. There _will_ be the occasional glimpse through Stefan's eyes as the story progresses so that we know what is going on with everyone back home. You have been warned. If you keep reading, don't blame me if you come across something you don't like.

_**SUMMARY**_  
Damon decides to use Stefan's call to clean up the mess he had made in turning Vicki Donovan into a vampire as a perfectly valid excuse to kidnap both Elena and Teddy before leaving Mystic Falls fading from the rearview mirror of his Camaro. And when giving his blood to Elena to heal her of the injuries Vicky inflicted on her causes Elena to become a blood addict, Damon knows he now has a very good chance at making Elena his for eternity. _**Damon/Elena**_

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Chapter 1  
Kidnapped

I watch the young woman standing before me as she rages at me over the outcome of my mistake in turning the druggie, whose dead vampire body is lying nearby. As she rages, I take notes on the major and minor difference between this human and my lost love. Admittedly, as time has passed, I've come to consider more and more frequently leaving Katherine in the tomb for eternity in favor of making the young woman standing before me _mine._ True, there is the setback of the facts that she is dating my brother _and_ hates my guts. But I have finally come up with a plan to overcome those setbacks _and_ the perfect opportunity to set that plan into motion.

My clueless brother had foolishly left his girl in my company in favor of taking her brother home. In doing so, he had forgotten that we are alone, unsupervised, and that if I _really_ wanted to, I could snatch that hideous piece of junk he gave her to protect her from vampire mind games from her neck before she can blink. Unfortunately for him, he didn't stop to think that I would just take it as a challenge to charm her into my arms without using my Power. And he probably hasn't realized that there are _other_ kinds of mind games that have no need for the use of my Power and thus she _will_ be susceptible to.

"It matters and you know it," she hisses through her teeth in response to my pointing out that none of what she's talking about matters to me.

Cue the opening for my plan to launch. I slowly walk up to her. "Actually, you're right in that there _is_ something that matters to me," I admit as I close the distance between us. Just as a gleam of triumph starts shining in her eyes, I chuckle darkly. "But not what you're referring to," I continue. Confusion instantly replaces triumph. _"You_ matter," I add.

She scowls. "I'm with Stefan," she hisses.

I shrug. "I know. But _surely_ you must realize that by being with a vampire that will never turn you into one yourself, you are allowing for the inevitable aging of your own body while _his_ remains eternally seventeen. What will you do in ten years, when you'll be approaching thirty and _look_ it while he is still in the body of a teenager?" I ask. The shock and chagrin on her face is proof that she hadn't thought about that. "What about twenty years? Thirty? You see, Elena, the only way to be with a vampire is to become one yourself. Otherwise you will inevitably grow old enough to look like his grandmother and what will people think about _that?_ And as you grow older, your body will inevitably become susceptible to the ailments that come with age. Not to mention cancer or some other disease could end your life early. Or even an accident like the one he saved you from. And even if none of that takes you prematurely, you will _still_ die of old age. And once you do, how can you possibly be sure that he will follow you into death? After all, he has to be preparing himself to outlive you even now. The problem with _that_ kind of thinking is that too much of it will lead to him accepting that your death is inevitable. And when you _do_ die, it won't come as a shock to him because he has already accepted that it would happen. And with accepting that he will remain young forever while you continue to age and inevitably die, when that time comes, he'll already have made himself numb to the event. And by being _numb_ to the fact that someone you say you love has died, you will be able to move on with your life. You won't forget them, but the grief won't be nearly as strong as it should be. And, eventually, you just might find someone new. Someone you might even be able to bring yourself to turn into another vampire." I shrug again as dread, pain, and fury wage war for dominating her reaction to this news. "And if you think _I'm_ lying about this, please, by all means, tell me what Stefan has told you about Katherine's looks," I invite.

Elena frowns at the apparent change in topic. "You talk about her more than he does," she admits. "When I try to bring her up in conversation with him, he doesn't really answer my questions and changes the topic at first opportunity."

I chuckle. "That, my dear Elena, means he doesn't want you to _know_ what she looked like," I tell her triumphantly.

"What are you getting at?" she demands.

I shake my head, my amusement plain on my face. "I'm _saying_ that your darling boyfriend doesn't want you to find out just how true my words were when I told you that her beauty _is a lot like yours."_ Her confusion is evident on her face. "Elena, I have _never_ lied to you. I've omitted large parts of the truth when answering your questions at times, but never have I added in a lie. And what I'm about to tell you is going to rock your world because it is the most truth I have told you at one time since we met. While I was toying with her," I say, motioning to the dead girl nearby, "when I was waiting for Stefan to return my ring, I happened across a particular picture lying out on Stefan's desk, there for anyone to find if they happened to be in his room."

"A picture?" she asks, dread lacing her words because she already knows what I mean but refuses to accept it until I say the words.

"A picture labeled 'Katherine, 1864'," I reply. She sucks in a sharp breath. "And that's not the only thing that he's been hiding from you. And the next bit I'm going to share with you will be worse in a way than just the fact that he happened to have a picture of our ex lying around in the open."

"There's more?" she whispers.

I nod, almost in sympathy for her pain. "Stefan didn't want to tell you what Katherine looks like because he knows precisely what you will do when you find out. Elena, my brother only stuck around after saving your life for one reason. He only enrolled in your school and situated it so that he had several classes for one reason."

"What reason?" she asks so softly a human would not have heard her.

"When I said Katherine's beauty was a lot like yours, what I was trying to get across was that you could very easily pass for her twin," I reply. Elena freezes so thoroughly that even her breathing stops for a moment. Grief and rage war behind soft brown eyes that fill with tears. "Admittedly, I mistook you for her at first glance. But then I realized you were human. And once I realized _that,_ I did some digging, trying to figure out the connection between a human girl of the twenty-first century and a vampiress who was turned in the fifteenth century who just so happen to share the same exact face. And as I did so, I watched you. And I've finally come to one simple conclusion."

"What conclusion?" she breathes.

"The conclusion is that I don't really _care_ what the connection is," I reply candidly. "Because in watching you, I realized that _you,_ Elena, may share her face but your personality is infinitely better than hers." I lean in close to place my lips by her ear. I smirk when she doesn't even flinch away. "And I realized that I want _you,_ not _her,"_ I whisper in her ear.

She only has time to gasp before I bring my hand around to hit the pressure point on the back of her neck that will successfully knock her out without inflicting any lasting damage. I smirk as I catch her unconscious body. I stretch my senses to make sure that no one will come out in the next few minutes. As soon as I'm certain the coast is clear, I scoop Elena up in my arms and vamp her to where I left my car. I tuck her safely into the front passenger seat, buckle her in, and shut the door. Then I fetch the body of that druggie and stuff her into the trunk. After that, I climb in to the driver's seat, start the engine, and pull out of the school's parking lot.

I make sure to leave my car a good distance from the Gilbert home so that Stefan has no way of knowing that I have Elena at my mercy. Then I make my way to her house on foot. I have to suppress a smirk on seeing that Stefan is waiting on the front porch for his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. "What are _you_ doing here?" he demands.

I shrug. "Cleaning up my mess, as you ever-so-politely _demanded_ that I do," I reply.

"What are you talking about?" he asks warily.

"Look, we both know damn well what will happen to Elena if her brother gets it in his head to do something stupid over what he witnessed tonight. _Unlike_ us, they happen to be emotionally attached to each other. And we both know that if she loses another loved one, it could very well cause her to break. And if you try to stop me from doing what I can to keep that from happening, it will all be on _you_ if her brother decides to commit suicide. Can you handle _that_ on your conscious, brother? Can you _handle_ living with not only the fact that whatever the kid is planning on doing in his grief could have been prevented but _also_ the fact that that you stopping me from doing what we both know needs to be done had led to it having the chance to happen in the first place?" I ask, crossing my arms. "Because we both know _you_ don't have the strength to make the compulsion stick even if the kid is put under duress but _I_ do. And if you're doubting my word that I will only make it so that the kid doesn't suffer from tonight, then I must remind you that it was not _my_ word that was broken in 1864. It was not _my_ word being broken that made the past hundred and forty-five years begin. I must remind you that every single time I gave my word that I'd do something since even before you were born, _I_ stuck to it. But there _is_ someone who had not only broken his word that he would keep his mouth shut on the topic of vampires around Father but betrayed me _again_ by forcing me to complete the transition. And we both know who that _someone_ was. So if there's any doubt to be had in concern to someone's word once given, it wouldn't be mine because if there is nothing else about me that is remotely good, I _do_ stick to my word once it is given."

Stefan glares at me. But even he has to admit that I'm right on all counts. He grudgingly steps aside and allows me to enter the house. I don't bother making any wise cracks over it. I came to do something for Elena and I need to do it before her brother has a chance to get past the shock tonight's events have left him in. Because once the shock of something like tonight wears off, there's no telling what stupid shit he would think to do. I enter the Gilbert home and vamp up to the kid's room. As soon as I walk in I realize that Jeremy's in worse shape than I had expected. The aura of grief emanating off of him is almost too much for even _me_ to handle. Almost.

I walk over to where he is sitting at his desk chair and tuck a finger under his chin to make him look up at me. He's so deep in shock that he doesn't seem to even recognize me. Or, if he does recognize me, he doesn't care that the guy who had set in motion the series of events that led to tonight's unfortunate conclusion is standing in the same room as him. I glance down at his right wrist, where the bracelet laced with vervaine his sister had given him takes center stage. As quickly as I can, I unclasp it from around his wrist and toss it on his desk. Even in spite of my speed, I hiss in pain as the vervaine burns my fingers.

I immediately shove the pain aside as I lock eyes with him and capture his mind with my own. "What you saw tonight never happened. You went to the Halloween part with your sister in hopes of meeting up with Vicki Donovan. But she never showed. When you got home, you received a text from Vicki. She apologized for not showing up as she had led you to believe she would but that she had to get out of this town and do so tonight. She made it clear that text will be the last contact you will ever have with her. And while you _will_ miss her, you know that this is for the best. Vicki's life here only consisted of drugs and sex. Out there in the world she might be able to overcome her past and become the person you always knew she could be." I hesitate before continuing. "Also, you have decided that since Vicki's decided to try to get her act together, you should do the same. You will stop doing drugs and _start_ helping your family out. Doing your homework, trying to get your grades up, and even cleaning your room will all be good ways to start making your life better." I pause again, this time to listen for what my brother's doing. Turns out he's trying to get in contact with Elena by leaving her messages on her phone. I take this opportunity to add in one last compulsion while he's distracted. "Also, when you don't hear Elena come home, you will go check on her later and find a short letter addressed to you and Jenna. While you will wish she had told you in person what she had said in the letter, you understand that she has been through a lot and that if she had tried to convince you and Jenna to allow her to do as she has done, you two would have found a way to talk her out of it. So, you will let your sister do what she needs to do even if you don't like it and even if you will miss her greatly. Now, put your bracelet back on and forget that I came over tonight."

I release his mind and allow my compulsions to take root in his mind. As they are doing so, I vamp to Elena's room and dig out a piece of paper and a pen from her desk. I have become an expert at forging someone else's writing. I grab her journal from its hiding place behind that ridiculous picture of a horse on her wall. I glance through it just long enough to familiarize myself with her handwriting before tucking it in one of the inside pockets of my jacket. Then I return to her desk and quickly write that short letter I made Jeremy believe is from Elena using her handwriting.

_Dear Jeremy and Jenna,_

_I'm sorry I didn't say this in person but I knew you would try to stop me. And I __need__ this. I need to get away from all the memories of my parents that are all over the town. So, I decided to take a little road trip. Don't worry; I'll be sure to call as often as I can. But I __need__ to get away so that I can finally come to terms with everything that has happened in my life since May. And if I had tried to explain this in person, you would have tried to stop me. And we all know I would have allowed myself to be talked out of it. So I just left this letter so that you will know why I had to do this and that nothing bad has happened to me. As I said, I'll keep in contact as I can. I love and will miss both of you. But I have to do this before I crack under the pressure._

_Love,_

_Elena_

I smirk and neatly fold the paper over twice, tuck it into an envelope I fetch from one of the draws of her desk, and, still using Elena's hand writing, address the envelope to Jeremy and Jenna. I look around the room for anything Elena would have grabbed in her haste to leave town. Her purse is already with her in my car. Unfortunately, I don't know all her hidey holes _just_ yet, so I won't know where to look for something like a passport or even a fake ID. Not that she'll need either with yours truly as her travelling companion, but still. Then I spot Teddy propped against her pillows. The stuffed bear has to come along for the ride, I decide.

I walk over, leave the envelope with the letter from 'Elena' on her pillow, and grab Teddy. I'll just tell Stefan that I want to see how long it takes Elena to realize her favorite teddy bear has gone MIA. I tuck Teddy under my arm and head back into the hall. I glance in Jeremy's room to see that he is now blaring his eardrums listening to his IPod and working on homework. I smirk and discreetly make my way downstairs.

As I step outside, I smirk with wicked amusement to the sound of Stefan leaving the umpteenth voicemail on Elena's phone. "Well, it's done," I say when he hangs up. "Now, I'll be going."

"Why do you have one of her stuffed bears?" he demands when he looks at me.

I smirk. "I want to see how long it takes her to realize her _favorite_ teddy bear has gone AWOL," I reply. "You know how much I love riling her up. And this is sure to get her blood pumping. Speaking of blood, I'm still _quite_ famished after my stint in lockup. So, I'll be heading off. Ciao."

With that I turn my back to him and make it to the bottom of the steps before Stefan sighs in aggravation and stops me. "Do you know where Elena is?" he asks in resignation. "She won't answer my calls."

I turn. "And _why,_ pray tell, do you think I would know where _your_ girlfriend is?" I ask mildly. I'm not outright lying when I'm just asking why he thinks I would know something he normally wouldn't consider.

"When was the last time you saw her?" he demands.

I shrug. For me, a vampire who _embraces_ immortality, time tends to lose meaning because there is very little going on that forces me keep track of the minutes passing by. "You know time has very little importance to me," I point out. "Keeping track of time is for those who have only a limited amount of it, aka _mortals,_ or those who wish they _were_ mortal, aka _you._ I happen to embrace immortality and everything it entails. Why should I keep track of passing time? I have the rest of eternity ahead of me should nothing kill me off beforehand. Quite _literally_ all the time in the universe is available to me."

Stefan sighs in aggravation. I do so love teasing my brother. "When she left you to deal with Vicki, did she say where she was going?" he demands through gritted teeth.

"Nope. She hates me, remember? Why would she tell me that when she knows I would take it as an invitation to follow her around?" I reply. Well, she didn't say where she was going when she left me because she didn't have a _chance_ to leave me to deal with the dead newborn. "Now, if you don't mind, I _still_ have a dead body to make disappear."

"What did you do with Vicki's body?" he asks.

"Oh, it's in the trunk of my car. I had to come here first to take care of Elena's brother. Now I'm going to go take care of the body. Oh, and if you don't see me in the next few days, I'll just be up to my usual tricks. Nothing that concerns you, really."

With that, I vamp away at top speed, not giving him a chance to ask more questions. I have never outright lied to my brother and I don't intend to put myself in a situation where I am forced to do so. Lying by misleading him through revealing only bits of the truth is one thing. But lying to his face with no hint of the truth is something else entirely. In spite of all the horrible things I've done in my long life, outright lying to the people I care about is not one of them. And I have to admit to myself at least that I do still care about Stefan. He _is_ my brother after all.

Though our relationship has been rocky since Katherine entered our lives and turned us against each other, we still share a shadow of the bond we once had. As humans, we never had the infamous rivalry that most siblings have during their child and teenage years. We've been making up for that since the day Stefan forced me to complete transition. And I'm quite sure it will take something pretty monumental to put an end to it after all this time.

I reach my car, unlock it, and slid into the driver's seat. I glance at Elena to make sure she's nowhere near waking up. Once I'm assured of that, I start the engine and pull out of the driveway I had parked in. The house the driveway belongs to is actually vacant at this time, but _somebody_ among the living owns it because I can't enter it. And apparently the neighbors are an incurious lot, which is particularly peculiar considering everyone else in this town sticks their nose in everyone else's business. The two houses on either side of the property I use to park my car on frequent occasions are inhabited but I have never had the homeowners of either property show up to ask questions about why I'm parking here. Peculiar, as I said, but I'm most appreciative for it.

I drive straight for Wickery Bridge. Easiest way to get rid of a body that will raise too many questions in this town is to weigh it down with something heavy and sink it to the bottom of the quarry lake. As I've returned to Mystic Falls time and again over the years, I have taken care to figure out the best ways to hide the bodies that will raise too many questions in a town where a select number of individuals know that vampires are _very_ real. And by far the best and easiest way since the quarry flooded ten years after Stefan and I turned is to sink those bodies to the bottom of the lake. The quarry gets dragged once every twenty years at best. Considering the _last_ quarry drag was about five years ago, any bodies that are weighted down and sunk _now_ won't be discovered for at least another fifteen years. At which point the fish that had come to populate the lake will have feasted on everything but the skeleton. I briefly wonder if it's possible for fish to become vampires by feasting on vampires but quickly decide that even if it _were_ possible, the vampire would have to still have their undead status at the time and only a completely desiccated vampire would be holding still long enough for the fish to start feasting on them. So the likelihood of fish becoming vampires is probably nonexistent.

I shake my head in amusement at my own thoughts as I pull the Camaro to a stop on the side of the bridge. I then climb out, make my way around to the trunk, and open it. I pull Vicki's body out and then examine the variety of really heavy stuff I keep in the trunk for the purpose of sending a corpse to the bottom of a body of water. I finally decide that I'll use the anchor. I mean, seriously, I've been meaning to get rid of that thing for a while now because it's just not reasonable to have an anchor in the trunk of your car if you are nowhere near a body of water you can go boating on. So now that I have the perfect reason to ditch the anchor, I pull it and one of the many coils of rope I keep in the trunk out. I then truss Vicki's body up like we used to do with pigs or cows on the Salvatore plantation in the middle of the nineteenth century when we were getting ready to roast them over a fire. I make sure to weave the rope around the anchor as I do so because if you're going to sink a dead body to the bottom of a body of water, you don't want that body floating above the bottom of that body of water. You want the body to be as close to that bottom as possible so that the likelihood of it being found anytime soon is minimized as much as possible. That's the problem with so many mortal serial killers who dump their kills into bodies of water to try to get rid of the evidence: they don't realize that if the body is floating above the lakebed or floor of whatever it is the killer dumped the body into, there is a chance that the rope holding the body to the weight could be frayed so much that it snaps and then the body goes floating to the surface of the water and the murder is discovered.

With those thoughts, I grab a second coil of rope and start wrapping it around both Vicki's body _and_ the anchor, further securing her to the weight that will keep her on the lakebed. And once I finish with that, I finally heave the whole mess over the side of the bridge and listen with a smirk as it splashes into the water and begins sinking to the bottom. I then shut the trunk of my car before climbing back in the driver's set and begin putting Mystic Falls in the rearview mirror with Elena's unconscious form buckled in the seat next to me and Teddy buckled into the middle of the backseat. I know that I'm _technically_ kidnapping them. To perfectly honest, I don't _care_ about such trivial technicalities. I have the perfect plan to get her agreeable to taking a road trip with me. And I already provided her with the perfect cover story for vanishing without asking permission.

As for moving things between us in the direction _I_ want them to go, well, I'm working on a plan for that too. As well as a few backup plans in case the one I'm considering doesn't work. I'm just hoping that we're _well_ away from Mystic Falls before she wakes up. The only way _any_ of my plans will work is if we're far enough away from that deadbeat town that no one Elena calls will be able to pick her up without driving for many, many hours. And the only way to assure myself that we _will_ be that far away when she does wake up is to pick up the speed.

So I press the accelerator closer to the floorboard as soon as I get on the westbound lane of the interstate. Our first big stop will be Vegas. I'm willing to bet that Elena can be a damn good gambler when she wants to be. And Sin City is most assuredly the place to launch off my delightfully sinful plans to make Elena mine for eternity. To hell with Katherine. She was a cheater and manipulative and a great many other things, too. Let her rot in that tomb for eternity. Elena is so much more appealing in the terms of becoming my eternal mate. But I'm going to have to win her over to that status. Well, dropping the bombshell St. Stefan had been trying so desperately to hide from her will certainly go a long ways to making her see just how much of a liar he is once she forces him to confirm what I told her. And if I know my brother, which I damn well do, he's going to make her have to pry it out of him before he admits that yes, Elena does bear so much of a resemblance to out sire she could pass for the vampiress' identical twin.

But for now, I need to put as much distance between us and Mystic Falls as I possibly can before Elena wakes up. Because I know there's going to be hell to pay when she finds out that I decided to kidnap her and Teddy and take them on a road trip with me. The farther we are from Mystic Falls when Elena wakes up, the better it will be for my plans. I press the accelerator even closer to the floorboard, watching as the speedometer passes 120 mph. I return my attention to the road, allowing a smirk to grace my lips. The fact that my inner vampire is _not_ trying to get me to sink my fangs into her flesh to sate my hunger despite her rather severe injuries and all the blood that is soaking into her cute nurse outfit is proof enough that this girl holds power over even _that_ part of me. I can see it now; life is going to become _very_ interesting when Elena finally wakes up.


	2. Talk About Embarrassing

For Lack of a Better Name  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter 2. This chapter starts off in Elena's perspective.

_**CREDIT**_  
I am a firm believer of giving credit where credit is due. If it weren't for the outstanding and witty help of my invaluable beta, this fanfic would still be trapped in my head. As it is, here's a well-earned shout-out to Cameron, aka _VDfan2107._ You are by far the best beta I have ever had.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_rcardinals4:_ I'm so glad you think this story was a great idea and that you love it. I hope you continue to love this story. Here's the next chapter.

_JMHUW:_ Damon's primary reason for placing the compulsions on Jeremy was both to give Elena some peace of mind in concern of her brother so that she can focus on what's happening between them _and_ to make sure that the note he forged in Elena's handwriting was found soon as well as was accepted by her brother at the very least. In regards to your comment about Stefan feeling like an idiot for not realizing what Damon was up to, he will feel that way but there's also the fact that he hadn't stopped to think that Damon just might give up his quest to open the tomb so he could set Katherine free in favor of making Elena _his._ And Elena's subconscious is indeed thinking hard and long about Stefan's betrayal of her trust while she's knocked out. Hope you continue to enjoy this story. Here's the next chapter.

_kfulmer7:_ I'm a huge fan of Delena road trips, which is why I have quite the tendency to write stories about them. Here's more to the story.

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Chapter 2  
Talk About Embarrassing

As the oblivion of the deep sleep I have been in for what I know to be a very long stretch of time finally starts to release me reluctantly back into the waking world, I get the distinct feeling that the peace that oblivion gave me is going to be annihilated upon waking up. So I try to cling desperately to oblivion because my life has become crazy enough that even such a state of total nothingness is more enticing than returning to it. But my body refuses to obey me and continues to rouse into awareness gradually. As I wake up, the final moments before darkness had taken over return to me and if I had been awake enough to have _control_ over my body, I would grind my teeth in fury over the knowledge that although Damon has done plenty of horrible things to make my life downright miserable, he has never flat-out lied to my face. That knowledge is enough to assure me that although the gleam of triumph in his eyes had been so obvious even a child would have seen it, he would not have lied to me about the picture of Katherine he had found on Stefan's desk nor would he have lied about my resemblance to his sire being so remarkable that I could pass for her twin. While I have no idea what he had been hoping to gain by sharing those two details with me, I know that he was completely honest as he spoke the words.

But try as I might, I cannot recall what had happened after he had told me those facts or how I had fallen unconscious to begin with. As I draw closer and closer to full awareness, I find that my body is in enough pain to remind me that Vicki had been deadset on killing me before Stefan had shoved a broken wooden board through her chest. Whatever else had happened while I was unconscious, the injuries she inflicted upon me have not had adequate time to heal enough for the pain to have faded very much.

After the return of the pain from my injuries, I realize that the situation around me is not right. For one thing, I am sitting up and I feel what is obviously the seatbelt of a car holding me upright. I should, by all rights, be lying in my own bed right now. The fact that I'm not only _not_ in a bed of _any_ kind but that I'm in a car that I can now tell is moving _extremely_ fast tells me that whatever had caused me to pass out has put me in a situation that I know instinctively that I do not under _any_ circumstances want to be in. So as desperately as I had been trying to cling to the black comfort of sleep, I now _just_ as desperately start to claw my way to full awareness. But as adamant as my body had been that I wake up, it is now _just_ as adamant that I do so at the pace _it_ chooses.

As my body continues to take its own sweet time rousing to awareness, I am granted too much time to fret over the many possible scenarios I could be in right now. No longer am I able to just worry about what a _human_ kidnapper would want with me, but now I know that humans are actually the _least_ of the dangerous beings walking this planet in human guise. I'd be hyperventilating from my fear if I had the least amount of control over my body right now.

It is only when I am close to full awareness that the rest of my senses, except for sight, come back to me. I use these returned senses to further analyze the situation I am now in. My hearing is too muddled to make out much sound at the moment so I focus on scent. My sense of touch had told me that I am buckled into a car that is moving quite rapidly. Now my sense of smell adds to the knowledge of what's going on around me. The smells that I recognize are of leather, some kind of spice, aftershave, and just a hint of musk. The combination of these scents is too damn familiar for me to pretend that I don't know who had kidnapped me: Damon Salvatore.

I simultaneously relax _and_ tense, however impossible that might have seemed before. If Damon had sinister plans for me, he would have enacted them while I was trapped in oblivious unconsciousness. The fact that I _am_ waking up in a slightly _lesser_ degree of pain than I had been in when I fell unconscious tells me that whatever his motives are for kidnapping me, they do _not_ involve going so far as to inflict further damage on my body than Vicki had already done. That is just enough to reassure me that he wants me alive and relatively in one piece for those plans. But what causes me to tense at the same time is that Damon is both highly intelligent _and_ extremely crafty. There could be any number of reasons that he wants me to stay alive and in decent shape _for the moment._ But as I am nowhere near as diabolical as he is, I'm not even going to _begin_ trying to figure out what he's up to.

As I draw even closer to full awareness, I'm startled to realize that Damon had been so thoughtful as to bandage my injuries. But considering the car that we're in _has_ to be his beloved Camaro, I find I'm not all that surprised. He would _never_ permit anything to cause any kind of damage to the car. And bloodstains on the upholstery are indeed damage to the car in his opinion. Even as I understand the primary reason why he would have tended my injuries, I can also tell that he had taken his time and applied the first aid properly. The bandages are neither so tight that they cause greater pain than the injuries they conceal nor are they so loose as to simply stop the blood from flowing onto the Camaro's upholstery without having much effect on the actual injuries. Even though I should be furious that Damon had to have undressed me so he could tend to all my wounds, the unexpected thoughtfulness of taking the time to do so correctly completely negates that fury and in its place I feel touched at the unexpected kindness from the badass vampire. Maybe my instincts were right after all in that he _is_ still redeemable from the sins he has committed in his vampire life.

So now that I know he had not only bandaged my injuries but had taken the time to do it _right,_ at least I can rest easy that whatever his reasons for kidnapping me are, he's not going to turn around and kill me later. After all, if Damon wanted me dead for whatever reason, he would not have wasted time not only bandaging the injuries that bled but also wrapping bandages around my chest to keep my cracked ribs in one place.

But just as I start giving him the benefit of the doubt, I finally reach full awareness and open my eyes. Damon had situated me in the front passenger seat of the Camaro in such a way that the very first thing I would see when I open my eyes would be him in the driver's seat. And the sight turns all the thoughts about him not being such a bad guy after all to ash.

Not only is he driving more than 100 miles an hour but his eyes are focused on the book he is holding in one hand while the other is on the wheel. And he is reading that book aloud. It takes me a minute to cool my panic enough to remind myself that as a vampire, Damon can most likely do any number of tasks while driving at such extreme speeds and still be just as in control of the car as if his attention was fixed entirely on the road ahead of him and he was going at the legal speed limit.

Then the words he's reading make me realize precisely _what_ book he is reading.

"-and I have to admit, Diary, that today's decision to go to the boarding house without calling to make sure Stefan was there just might have been a smart move after all. I mean, it was quite apparent when Stefan finally turned up that he would have done his damnedest to keep me from ever meeting his charming, devastatingly sexy older brother," Damon reads, using the vampire's ability at perfect vocal control to mimic my voice exactly.

Dear God, what did I do to deserve the utter embarrassment of having Damon reading my journal and finding out every last thing I have ever written down about him? I'm too caught up in humiliation and shock to snatch my journal out of his hand. And meanwhile, Damon keeps reading as if he hadn't noticed that I had woken up, which I know damn well he had to have known the instant I started returning to the waking world. He _is_ a vampire after all. He has all these super senses and vampire powers at his disposal.

"Anyways, I guess I should go into a bit more detail about Damon than what I had mentioned above. After all, I don't ever want to forget that I had met someone _that_ unbelievably hot," Damon continues to read in perfect mimicry of my voice. "So, Damon is a few inches taller than me. He has hair as dark as a raven's wing and I had to fight this intense urge to run my fingers through it, just to check and see if it was as soft as it looked. He has mesmerizing ice blue eyes that I wanted so desperately to fall into and never leave." Damon's voice turns a touch smug at the next lines. "And to think that just the other day I had been thinking there couldn't possibly be anyone on this planet who was hotter than Stefan. I was completely mistaken. Damon is way hotter not to mention he was quite the gentleman about the fact that I had just barged into his house without an invitation. But I'm curious about what Damon meant about Stefan's last girlfriend leaving him a complete mess. Not that I'm actually Stefan's _girlfriend_ or anything. And I don't know why this is so, but I know I wouldn't have been denying it if _Damon_ had been the one who had met me first and showed all the signs of wanting to hook up with me."

I close my eyes and feel my cheeks heat up so much I know they're crimson with embarrassment. Then I hear the rustling of pages before Damon starts reading another entry. And as if it's not bad enough that he now knows I had been smitten with him when I first met him, he starts reading the entry about the night of the football game where I had slapped him outside the stadium for trying to steal a kiss and my immediate reaction afterwards.

"Okay, diary, I am now in a mess of mixed feelings. Let me explain the situation that led to this," Damon reads in my voice. "Tonight when I arrived at the football game, Damon was waiting for me out front of the stadium. I was flustered that he had chosen to wait for _me._ I mean, he's this hot, twenty-something guy who could probably have any girl in the world, and he chose to wait outside a high school football stadium for _me._ So yeah, the nerves kicked up. Then he pointed out that my attempts to hide my attraction to him had failed miserably. Then he pointed out that at that moment, I wanted to kiss him. Admittedly, the thought _had_ been in the back of my mind ever since I first laid eyes on him. So I have no idea _why_ I slapped him when he tried to steal a kiss. I immediately regretted it and did my best to cover that up by pointing out that I'm not Katherine, the girl the brothers had fought over in the past. But that did nothing to ease the regret of missing out on a chance to feel his lips against mine."

I groan as he flips through several more pages in search of the next entry he wants to read. As soon as he starts reading the entry he had chosen, I get the strong desire to unbuckle my seatbelt and fling myself out of the car with strong hopes that doing so would snap my neck and kill me. But given my luck, such a stunt would not only _not_ kill me, but I'd probably walk away from it with no more injuries than the ones I have right now.

"Okay, this is ridiculous. I have just barely begun to accept the fact that the Salvatore brothers are in fact immortal vampires and that the gentleman act Damon's been pulling off for me is just that, an act to hide how black his heart really is, if he even has one to begin with," Damon reads, his grin one of triumph. "And now, ever since I found out what the brothers are and that _Damon's_ behind the 'animal attacks' that have been cropping up around town in recent months, my damn subconscious has finally decided to betray me by _dreaming_ about him. And the dreams are by no means the nightmares they _should_ be. No, they are the kind that make me flush crimson with embarrassment over the in-depth detail my subconscious brought to such raunchy dreams. Yes, diary, I said raunchy. That's because they _are._ For God's sake, I'm with _Stefan,_ the _good_ brother! And all my sleeping mind wants to think about is just how wild a lover Damon could be. I mean, Bonnie and I didn't decide to call that look of extreme pleasure Caroline wore every time he dropped her off for school the Just-Had-Mind-Boggling-Sex-With-Damon-Salvatore look for nothing. For all that Caroline is one of my best friends, even I have to admit that she's been a slut since two summers ago. Anyways, maybe if I write down what this latest dream was about, I might be able to rid my mind of these pesky dreams. I will _not_ allow even my own subconscious to cheat on Stefan any longer, particularly not with his evil older brother. God, I hope writing this down will make my subconscious shut up about the subject. So, at the beginning of the dream, Damon and I are dressed in formal attire and are dancing in this grand ballroom."

I finally manage to shake free of the paralysis my shame had cast over my body and snatch my journal from his hand. He lets me take it with a smug grin. "Go ahead and keep it," he says with a cheeky grin and a wink, using his own voice now. "It's all in here anyways," he continues, pointing at his head.

I groan. I need to get away from him. "Let me out," I demand.

"You sure about that? Take a look out the window and tell me if you're _really_ sure you want to get out of my car," he says cheekily.

I glance out just long enough to note that we are in the middle of a desert with no sign of civilization other than the road we're on anywhere around. "Let me out of the car, Damon," I hiss through my teeth in spite the fact that I know damn well that I probably wouldn't be able to make it to the nearest town on my own.

"Fine," he says with a shrug, slowing down and pulling over to the side of the road. As soon as his car pulls to a stop, I immediately launch myself out of it and slam the passenger door shut. I hear the window roll down behind me. "One hundred miles down the road in the direction we were going is Austin, Texas. Eighty miles in the opposite direction is a town even smaller than Mystic Falls. The most exciting thing about the tiny town is that it has a single gas station with two pumps and a working payphone that's so old that a five minute call is only a quarter. It's up to you which way you want to walk."

It takes a moment for me to realize what he is saying. In that moment, he's rolled the window back up and started pulling away. I whirl around and gape as he pulls back onto the road and starts driving away. Sure, he's now travelling at a snail's pace compared to what he had been travelling at, but he surely doesn't intend to _leave_ me here in the middle of _nowhere_ with the nearest bit of civilization eighty _miles_ away! But as I stare after him, he not only _doesn't_ stop again, he starts picking up speed. I let out the nastiest blue streak I have ever laid voice to and take off after him as fast as my legs can carry me.

"Dammit, Damon! You can't just _leave_ me here in the middle of nowhere!" I shout after him. He keeps the speed his car is moving at the same speed I am running so that while he _doesn't_ leave me behind, he also doesn't let me catch up. He keeps this going for a good mile before finally stopping. I was just starting to fall behind and when I realize he had stopped, I dredge up even more stamina from somewhere. I know damn well he's now toying with me because if he really _was_ going to leave me in the middle of nowhere, he wouldn't have matched my speed and kept the distance I was from the Camaro the same for a full mile. He would have just taken off and left me choking on his dust. I stagger the last few steps to the passenger door. But when I try to open it, I find that he had had the nerve to lock me out. I glare at him through the window and glare even more fiercely when I see that he's twisted in his seat to watch me with a grin of amusement.

"Dammit, Damon! Let me in!" I shout at him.

"But you were so insistent that you wanted _out,"_ he points out, his voice muffled slightly by the glass. "I did tell you to look out the window so you would see that we happen to be in the middle of a desert but you still wanted out."

"Fine, I'll admit it, I was an idiot. Now will you _please_ let me back in?" I snap.

He considers my words briefly and realizes that is the best he's going to get out of me. He unlocks the doors. I immediately swing mine open and climb back into my seat. I wince in pain as my injuries tell me in no uncertain terms that they do _not_ like the treatment I had put them through. By the way Damon's nostrils flare as soon as I get in; it is safe to say that several of the surface injuries had reopened because of my exertions. Damon makes a face and looks to the side as he thinks over something. Finally, he sighs, brings his right wrist to his face, morphs his face to that of the vampire just long enough to use his fangs to open a vein in his wrist, and then holds that wrist to me.

"Drink," he orders shortly.

"Damon," I start to voice my protests over being given vampire blood because I know enough by now to know that if I happen to _die_ with his blood in my system, I will become a vampire myself.

"Elena, vampire blood can heal all kinds of injuries on a human. I happen to still be _quite_ hungry from my three-day stint locked up in one of the vampire holding cells in the boarding house basement during which frame of time my darling brother withheld blood from me in an effort to desiccate me. The scent of your blood is driving my inner vampire crazy. If you _don't_ want to feel my fangs sinking into your own flesh, then you _will_ drink my blood so that your injuries heal," he says through his teeth. I can tell he's trying to breathe as little as possible and still be able to speak.

'Well, when you put it like _that,'_ I think and reluctantly latch my mouth over the wound on his wrist. At the first taste of Damon's blood, I find myself suddenly desperate to keep that sweet, rich, smooth taste flowing down my throat. When Damon goes to pull his wrist away when my injuries have healed, I grab his hand with my right one and his forearm with my left and struggle to keep my mouth latched over the wound on his wrist.

"Well, what do you know?" he murmurs thoughtfully, as if he's gotten his hands on some information that can be damn useful at a later point in time. After a moment, he reaches his other hand forward and pries me away from his arm. I moan in disappointment. "Elena, we are _still_ in the middle of a desert in Texas. Now is _not_ the time to let things head the way they _would_ have headed had I let you keep drinking my blood," he tells me forcefully.

That's when I finally come down off the high that the taste of his blood had given to me. "What just happened?" I demand. "I only meant to drink enough to take care of my injuries but then I couldn't stop!"

Damon rolls his eyes, straightens up in his seat, and pulls the Camaro back onto the road. "You, kitten, just so happen to be one of the rare humans who become addicted to vampire blood at first taste," he replies.

"Are you saying I'm some sort of _blood_ addict?" I demand.

He shrugs. "Well, the fact that you wouldn't let me take my arm back without having to pry you off of me says quite plainly that you couldn't get enough of my blood," he replies.

I cross my arms over my chest. Then I remember what city Damon said is ahead of us. "Damon, are we _really_ in the state of _Texas?"_ I demand.

"Yep," he replies, popping the 'p'. "As I said, ahead of us is Austin."

"How long was I _out?"_ I exclaim in shock.

"As of the moment you started waking up, it had been nearly thirty-six hours since you last had your eyes open. I was beginning to worry that I had accidentally put you in a coma," he says.

"And why did you knock me out and _kidnap_ me in the first place?" I demand. "Do you not realize that after what Jeremy witnessed …"

"Actually, I took care of your brother. He now believes that Vicki had sent him a text saying she had to leave Mystic Falls if she was ever to get her life in order and that he would never hear from her again. He will miss her but believes that the text was right in that if she had stayed in Mystic Falls, she would most likely have died of a drug overdose and that maybe roaming about the big wide world will help her overcome her past. As for what Jeremy and Jenna think about _your_ disappearance, I forged a note from you saying that you needed to get away from how your life has gone straight downhill since the events of this past May. So, in that letter, 'you' said you were going to go on a road trip and that you would keep in as much contact as you were able to through calls and texts. I made sure to mention that you would have inevitably allowed yourself to be talked out of doing what you thought was necessary to finally allow you to move on with your life. Thus, the abrupt disappearance with just a note to explain what was going through 'your' head."

I groan and slump down in my seat. "And where are you taking me?" I ask, knowing that demanding he turn around and take me home would be pointless since _he's_ driving. Not to mention his car is a stick-shift and I never learned how to drive one.

"The first _real_ stop on the road trip will be Vegas. Even Teddy agrees that's a good idea," he says. He glances in the rearview. "Don't you, Teddy?" he asks.

With a feeling of dread, I sit up and turn around to check out the backseat. Sure enough, buckled up in the middle of the backseat, Teddy is staring at me as if he is perfectly in his right to be there. I groan, cover my eyes with my hand and turn back to the front. Of _course_ Damon would know that if I really _had_ left of my own free will for a road trip, I would have inevitably brought Teddy along. _How_ he has managed to learn so much about me when we don't even get along is a complete mystery to me.

And since Damon had gone so far as to grab Teddy _and_ leave a forged note explaining my disappearance, I now know that whatever he is planning has nothing to do with killing me off at all. But whatever's going through his twisted mind is _still_ a mystery to me. I don't have enough clues to even try to piece together his motivations behind this. "What are you planning?" I ask wearily.

He chuckles darkly. "For now, all you need to know is that we are going to be gone from Mystic Falls a good, long time. And I intend on making damn sure that you begin enjoying this road trip," he replies.

"That's unlikely," I mutter.

Damon suddenly rises up so he can dig something out of the back pocket of his jeans. He tosses it to me and I fumble with it for a moment before realizing it's my phone. I give him a sharp look. "You better call your family to check in as 'you' promised you would," he tells me. "Just don't go trying to mention that I'm with you and I won't have to cut your call short. I'm going to make my brother sweat for a good long while as he tries to figure out what happened to you and what evil plot I'm undoubtedly working on. I can't wait to find out how long it takes for him to finally realize that your disappearance from town coincided with the last time he had laid eyes on yours truly and puts two-and-two together."

As soon as he mentions his brother, rage flares up within me over his duplicity in regards to Katherine. He had led me to believe that there is _nothing_ about me that reminds him of his ex. And now that Damon had made it perfectly clear that not _only_ was that a _lie_ but that I look so much like the vampiress that I could very easily pass for her _twin._ I grind my teeth as I do my damnedest to calm down. Unfortunately, practically as soon as I turn my phone on, Stefan calls and I become enraged again.

I signal to Damon to keep quiet and he nods. I then hit talk and put my phone to my ear. "Hello?" I answer, as if I don't know who's on the other end.

"_Elena? Where are you? Why haven't you been returning my calls?"_ he asks, sounding extremely worried.

"What does Katherine look like, Stefan?" I ask sharply.

"_What does she have to do with anything? No one's heard from you in more than a day and a half. Do you realize how _worried_ I was? And why didn't you tell me you needed to get away from town? I would have gone with you."_

"Stefan, answer my question," I growl. "What does Katherine _look_ like?"

"_Elena, I told you,"_ he says, and I can finally detect the desperation to avoid the topic.

"Stefan, I'm a fallible human. You can't expect me to remember every single thing in my life. So, remind me, what does Katherine look like?" I repeat my question with growing impatience.

"_Elena, what does Katherine's appearance have to do with anything?"_ he asks.

"You tell me what she looks like and I'll tell you why it matters to me," I tell him. "Let's start with her eyes. What color were they?"

"_Blue,"_ Stefan says hastily.

"What about her hair? What color was it? How long was it?" I demand.

"_She had short blonde hair,"_ he replies with the same haste that he had used before.

"Are you _sure?_ Because I keep picturing her with long brown hair and brown eyes," I say idly, as if I couldn't care less.

"_What are you getting at, Elena? What's going on?"_ he asks.

I sigh. "You know, I thought you loved and respected me," I tell him.

"_I do,"_ he assures me.

"Then why lie to me about what Katherine looks like?" I ask softly. Complete silence answers me, telling me that he's shocked. "Did you _honestly_ think that I wouldn't find out that not _only_ do I look so much like your ex that I could be mistaken for her twin but that you _also_ keep a picture of her lying on your desk where anyone who walked into your room could find it?"

"_How do you know about that?"_ he asks raggedly.

I scowl. "I wasn't completely sure until just now," I reply tersely. "I didn't bother to look for evidence on my own. I had to get away because you not only lied to me about looking nothing like your ex, you not only keep a picture of her within easy reach, but you _also_ betrayed my faith that you were the good brother, that you would never do anything to hurt me. And looking me in the eye and lying to my face _hurts_ me, Stefan. I'm not going to tell you where I am or where I'm going. And even if I _knew_ when I will come back to Mystic Falls, which I don't, I wouldn't tell you _that_ either. I want you _gone_ from Mystic Falls by the time I get back. I was right about one thing when it comes to you. You're not _as_ bad as Damon. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized that you are _worse_ than him. At least he has never lied to me about the things that really matter. You're no Prince Charming, Stefan. You're no White Knight. You just put on a damn good show of being one. And I hate myself for buying it hook, line, and sinker. From this moment on, you had better stay the hell out of my life and get as far from my family and friends as this world allows. And if you go so far as to try to track me down, I will drive the nearest pointy wooden thing through your heart. Good riddance."

I take the phone from my ear and hang up on his attempts to explain himself. I then put his number on the list of numbers my phone automatically blocks. I get the intense urge to roll down the window and throw my phone out it. But I know that I still need to contact Jeremy and Jenna and let them know I'm okay as well as let Bonnie know how badly Stefan had betrayed me.

The Halloween dance had been Friday evening. Damon told me I had been out of it for thirty-six hours by the time I started waking up. Which means I slept all through Saturday and it's now Sunday. I glance at the clock on the dashboard of the Camaro. It's now going on eleven in the morning. I decide that it should be safe to call Bonnie first and let her know what I had discovered about Stefan. First, though, I delete Stefan from my list of contacts. Then I scroll up to Bonnie's name and hit send. It takes four rings for her to pick up, not that I expected any less. My best friend prefers sleeping until at _least_ noon when she can get by with it. And that's at the very earliest. She prefers waking up around one in the afternoon or maybe even two.

"'_Ello?"_ Bonnie's sleep-filled voice grouses.

"Knock the sleep out of your eyes, Bonnie, because you are going to need to be wide awake for this," I tell her.

"_Elena?"_ Bonnie asks, sounding much more awake. _"Where've you _been?_ And why didn't you tell me you were going on a road trip!"_

"Bonnie, you better stay in your bed or you're going to fall on the floor with what I'm about to tell you," I say when I hear her bed creaking.

"_Elena, why do you sound like you're ready to kill someone? Did Damon do something?"_ she asks.

"Damon's not behind my fury this time. Stefan is," I reply tersely.

She gasps. _"What did he do to upset you so much?"_ she asks finally.

"First, you should know, what he did to infuriate me has made me break up with him permanently and I want him long gone from town by the time I get back," I tell her.

"_What did he _do?"

I grit my teeth and feel tears flooding my eyes. I take a deep breath and shove them back. "I told you about his ex, right? The vampiress who sired him?" I ask.

"_You told me her name was Katherine. What does this have to do with her?"_

"Well, he lied to me when he said that there is nothing about me that reminds him of her. I have discovered that not only do I look so much like her that I could pass for her twin but he _also_ keeps a picture of her lying on his desk for anyone who enters his room to find. It's even _labeled_ 'Katherine, 1864' so that no one can mistake it as a picture of me. I just got off the phone with Stefan right before I called you and he confirmed that I do look like I could be Katherine's twin _and_ that he does have a picture of her in his room that is easily reachable. But first I made him tell me what Katherine looks like. I asked about her eyes, he said blue. I asked about her hair, he said short and blonde. And I had to demand that he answer my questions before I would allow any other topic enter the conversation. Not only did he lie to me about my resemblance to her, not only did he lie to me about the details of her looks, but he _also_ tried to change the topic many times before I could flush the false details out of him. So you can clearly understand why I broke up with him and want him _out_ of my life."

"_What do you want me to do about him? You name it, I'll do it,"_ Bonnie says fiercely.

"Keep him away from my family and see if you can get your Grams to help you un-invite him from my house. I'd love to add run him out of town in such a way that he will never try to stick his nose into my life again, but I'm not going to ask you to try to pull off such a big miracle," I tell her. "Accomplishing the first two will be miraculous enough."

"_I'll get with Grams and see what we can come up with to accomplish your requests,"_ she promises. _"I take it you're not going to tell me where you are or where you're headed?"_

"Sorry, Bonnie, I can't risk word of my whereabouts getting back to Stefan. I know you'd do your damnedest to keep your mouth shut. But if my family or especially Caroline were to find out where I am, word will spread and Stefan will likely get it in his head to come talk some 'sense' into me in person. And I will go through with the threat I gave him about plunging the nearest wooden pointy thing into his heart. And that will make me a murderer, no matter that he's a vampire that deserves it." I glance at the clock on the dashboard. "Well, I still gotta call Jenna and Jeremy and apologize for leaving the way I did. I just hope I can come up with a good enough excuse to explain why Jenna _shouldn't_ call in the feds to track me down and bring me home."

"_Tell her that Stefan had led you to believe that you had nothing in common with his ex but then you came across a picture of her that not only was lying on his desk for anyone to find but _also_ that revealed that you and she share a remarkable resemblance. She'll concede that no betrayal _she's_ ever suffered could ever come close to being as bad as _that._ And she would understand that not only would you feel so ashamed for not realizing that you were being used as a replacement for the one he really loved but also that that very shame and sense of betrayal would drive you to get as far from him as you could,"_ she says, her voice taking on a distinctly odd tone. So odd, in fact, that Damon and I exchange a look and he mouths 'vision' at me. I nod, having to agree that Bonnie must be having a vision while she speaks. After a moment, Bonnie's back on the line and I'm relieved that her voice is back to normal. _"Well, I get the distinct feeling that I just said something that will help you out but I can't remember what,"_ she admits. _"Whatever it was, I hope it helps."_

"It was a big help, Bonnie," I assure her. "Now, I need to make that call to Jenna before she does give in to her worry and calls the feds."

"_You be sure to keep in contact,"_ she orders.

"I will, but you be sure to take care of my family while I'm gone," I tell her.

"_I'll do my damnedest and I'll bring Grams in on the effort as well,"_ she vows.

We hang up after that. "Now for the call I've been dreading," I mutter, looking up Jenna's name. Damon doesn't comment, not that I had expected him to. He doesn't have a shred of humanity in him. But there is the fact that rather than sinking his fangs into me when my reopened wounds started driving his inner vampire crazy, he instead fed me his blood to heal all my injuries so that I would stop being such a big temptation. So while he doesn't have a shred of humanity in him, he _does_ care about what happens to me to some extent, as his words the other night had indicated. And with that ability to _care_ about what happens to me comes the tiny chance of rebuilding his humanity with that as the foundation.

But I shake myself free of those thoughts for the moment as I find Jenna's name. I sigh in resignation. 'Best to get it over with,' I tell myself. At least Bonnie had given me the reason I need to convince her to let me continue travelling. I hit send and put my phone to my ear.

It's barely halfway through the first ring before Jenna picks up. _"Elena! Where the hell _are_ you? Why did you leave like that? And why on earth haven't you contacted me before this?"_ Jenna's voice comes on, thick with worry.

"I'm sorry, Jenna, but I couldn't risk having you and Jeremy talk me out of this. All I'm going to say is that I'm on the road. I can't tell you where I am or where I'm going. I don't want word getting back to Stefan because he could very well use that information to try to track me down. And if I lay eyes on him any time soon, I'm going to end up killing him," I say, allowing the tears that keep wanting to fill my eyes get their release through my voice.

"_What on earth did he do that has you so upset, Elena?"_ Jenna asks, her tone softening.

I take a shaky breath, trying to keep my composure together. "I found a picture of his ex-girlfriend on his desk," I admit. She gasps in horror and outrage. "And that's not even the worst part. He told me that there is nothing about me to remind him of her. That picture proved him to be a liar. She and I share an uncanny resemblance, Jenna. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get away from town, away from _him._ I never thought I'd ever know precisely what you went through when you fled Mystic Falls because of ScumFell, but now I do. I … I can't face him, Jenna. Not right now. Like you said, the chicken option of running seemed the safer route at the time. And I know that if he manages to track me down, he'll put on some wholesome show he's probably working on right now to sweet talk me back into his arms. And if I encountered him right now, I'd kill him for his charades. So, please, don't try to ask me where I am, where I've been, where I'm going, or anything else along those lines."

"_Just … just tell me that you're going to be okay,"_ Jenna begs.

"It'll take time, which is why I chose to go on a road trip of indeterminate length," I reply, looking out at the desert scenery passing us by.

"_You'll keep in touch, though, right?"_

"As much as possible," I promise. "How's Jeremy?"

"_Well, Friday seemed to be the night for skipping town,"_ Jenna replies sardonically. _"Vicki Donovan got it in her head to take off and find some place else to try to start fresh. She sent Jeremy a text saying that she had split town and wasn't coming back. She also mentioned that he'll never hear from her again. Someone found the crushed up remains of a phone that Jeremy and Matt agree is the same model as hers on the road to Wickery Bridge. It looks like she sent the text then tossed her phone out the window of a car so that no one can contact her. With both you and Vicki skipping town on the same night, I'm finding Jeremy's reaction to be nothing short of miraculous. Not only did he say that Vicki's chances of living long enough to even graduate high school looked pretty bleak if she were to stay here, but he also mentioned that he's decided to use her attempt to find a better life for herself as an example to get his own act together. And while I was freaking out over the fact that you only left a note before skipping town yourself, _he_ was telling me that you must have had a damn good reason for doing so or you wouldn't have done it. There's talk all over town about the fact that two of the towns notable daughters had hit the road on the same night can't be a coincidence."_

"Well, I can assure you, wherever Vicki is, she's not with me," I say, flicking my eyes towards Damon. "If I had known Vicki would get it into her head to split town that night, I probably would have found some other way to deal with what I found out about Stefan." We pass a sign saying that we'll reach the city limits of Austin, Texas, in thirty miles. "Listen, Jenna, I have to go. I wasn't really thinking when I fled town or I would have packed some clothes. I'm almost to a big town where I can do a little shopping for some road trip necessities and _hopefully_ find some place to eat and maybe even a motel so I can get cleaned up. I hope my bank account can handle this or I just might be _walking_ back to Mystic Falls." Those last two sentences are said with a stern look at Damon telling him that those things had _better_ happen or I'm not going to make this road trip the least bit pleasant until they do. He rolls his eyes but nods that he'll open his wallet and pay for my needs. I narrow my eyes in a warning that he better or else. "Anyways, give Jeremy a hug for me and tell him I'm sorry to have bailed on him the same night his girlfriend did. Love ya, Jenna."

"_I'll do that. Love ya, too, kid,"_ she says.

We hang up and I make myself as comfortable as I can. Unfortunately, that mile-long run Damon put me through was not enough to work out all the kinks left by spending thirty-six straight hours asleep in an upright position. "I didn't drag you on this road trip just to make you suffer by not making sure your needs are met," Damon says.

"Please, do tell, why _did_ you drag me along when you decided to skip town?" I invite sarcastically.

He chuckles. "When the time is right, I'll reveal my hand," he says, smirking.

"Well, why did you have to drag Teddy along?" I demand, wrinkling my nose at him.

Damon shrugs. "I happen to like him," he replies.

"You, Damon Salvatore, evil incarnate, like a teenaged girl's _teddy bear?"_ I demand, choking back a laugh.

"Only because he's _your_ favorite teddy bear," he replies, winking at me.

I frown. "How did you know he's my favorite?" I ask.

"Of all the stuffed animals in your room, Teddy is the only one who is granted a place on your bed. You even sleep with him," he replies.

"How do you know I … you watch me _sleep?"_ I demand shrilly.

"Ow!" he says, wincing away from me. "Keep your voice down, woman! I'm a _vampire._ My hearing happens to be superior to yours!"

"How could … how dare … ugh!" I complain, completely ignoring his demands for me to keep it down.

Before I can go any further, though, I feel a chill run down my spine as Damon's right hand lands on the back of my neck. "Elena, lower your voice or I'm going to knock you back out," he says tersely. "I might even go so far as to snap your neck. I'm sure you know what will happen to you if I did _that,_ what with the fact that you have my blood in your system right now." I stiffen and snap my mouth shut. "Remember, I'm _not_ like my pansy brother. _I_ happen to think you'd make an excellent vampire. Unlike him, _I_ have sired many vampires since I completed transition. Vicki was a mistake made out of boredom. _You_ won't be. Not to mention the fact that now I know you are addicted to my blood, all I have to do is open one of my veins and your mouth would be latched to it because you won't be able to stop yourself. Because of this, I can _keep_ my blood in your system indefinitely if I so wanted to and you would be helpless to stop me from doing so. You better keep that in mind. So don't push me, Elena. Now, keep your mouth shut until we get to a motel room or you won't like the consequences."

I give the barest of nods to show my agreement. I sigh in relief as his hand leaves my neck. The rest of the drive into Austin is made in tense silence. This has to be the most humiliating day of my life, I'm sure of it. And, unfortunately, I have a feeling that Damon's going to use my newfound addiction to his blood to take things between us to a whole new level, one I would never allow them to reach if I were in control of myself. I sigh and stare out my window forlornly. I wish I could be sure that _some_ good would come of this, but I know better than to set my hopes on such a miracle.


	3. Reluctant Girlfriend

For Lack of a Better Name  
DG32173

Sarah: chapter 3 is here. I hope everyone enjoys. Damon's view to start with this chapter. Also, the Kimber Modern _is_ a real hotel in Austin, Texas. And one of the suites you can book there _is_ called the White Room. And yes, you do use codes to enter your room or suite. You can Google the hotel and check its site for all that information. So, I obviously don't own any of that.

_**!NOTICE!**_  
My darling readers, I must beg forgiveness for anyone who takes offense to Damon's behavior that will take place this chapter and anything he does that you don't feel is 'Damon'. I must remind you that I _did_ put in the warnings section in chapter one that I am writing Damon as he was _before_ Elena flipped his humanity switch to the "on" position. This is Damon without a trace of humanity. He is capable of things the Damon we've come to love after the tomb was opened would never _dream_ of doing. I promise you, there will be a big event in some future chapter that will make his humanity switch start to switch to "on", but until then, please bear with this side of Damon. He is an asshole, but we all love him, good, bad, and ugly. Just accept that his ugly side is in control at the moment.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_kfulmer7:_ she more than 'likes' Damon's blood. She's quite literally addicted to it. Blood-addiction will be further next chapter, but for now, the 'fun times' you were referring to will start this chapter, much to Elena's chagrin. And I just wish Damon got to read such entries in Elena's diary in the show while she was nearby. That would have been hilarious. Here's more.

_PattyFleur87:_ jeez, you're making me blush with all the praise! And Elena's going to get to know Damon in ways she'd rather not starting this chapter. Oh, her opinion on the matter will eventually change, but for now, she's going to be furious with both of them next chapter for what will happen in this one. Here's the chapter.

_JMHUW:_ If Bonnie or Jenna knew that Elena happens to have a road trip companion and _who_ that companion was, well, I highly doubt they'd be so supportive. At least, Bonnie wouldn't. And as for the vision, I have no idea _what_ gave it to her. You might be right in that it was Emily. Or it could have been something else entirely. And Damon has never lied to Elena, not even when he had his humanity switch in the 'off' position. When she asked a direct question about why she reacted like that, he gave her the truth. You're right in that Damon has plans to eventually turn Elena and you're also right in that he will make sure she's a proper vampire who feeds off human blood. Yes, she _is_ more useful as a human because he's going to have to turn his charms to the max to win her over to him. Though neither of them acknowledge their connection, they do both feel it. And the lying from Stefan had definitely been something he'd have done even in the show if she had confronted him about the picture and he didn't know she had found it. I agree, getting the truth from Stefan is like pulling teeth _without_ the help of Novocain. _That_ much was proven when Elena verbally tore into him in the show to find out what he knew about her connection to Katherine upon Damon bringing her home from Georgia. Here's the chapter, I hope you continue to find what I write so entertaining.

* * *

Chapter 3  
Reluctant Girlfriend

I smirk as I park in one of the empty parking spots of one of my favorite hotels. The Kimber Modern of Austin, Texas, has served me well in the past. I just hope I don't have to force my favorite room to be 'free' this time. I park my Camaro, cut the engine, and then gesture for Elena to meet me at the front of the car. She sighs and obediently gets out. I climb out as well and lock my car. I then go to the front of the car and drape my arm around her shoulders. She stiffens but knows better than to try to duck away.

I guide her inside and to the front desk. "Welcome to the Kimber Modern. I'm sorry, but you're a little early for …," the attendant says.

I easily capture her mind when she makes the mistake of meeting my eyes. "Is the White Room open?" I ask.

"Just a moment, let me check," she says, turning mechanically to the computer to look it up. She looks up into my eyes again. "As a matter of fact, sir, it is free. Would you like me to book it for you?" she asks.

"Just for tonight," I say, taking my arm from Elena's shoulders to get my wallet from the inside pocket of my jacket so I can pull out my black debit card. I pass it over to the attendant. "My girlfriend and I are only passing through." I can _feel_ Elena's glare of fury for referring to her as my girlfriend. I don't care that she's mad about it. It will be true soon enough.

"As you wish," she says. She books the room and swipes my card before passing it back to me along with a slip of paper with the code that will let us in our room. "Enjoy your stay here."

I accept my card and the slip of paper. "We will," I assure her, slipping my card back into my wallet. My wallet goes back into its pocket inside my jacket. I keep the slip of paper with the code to our room in my hand as I wrap my other arm around Elena's shoulder to guide her back to our room.

As soon as we are safely in our room and the door is closed behind us, Elena voices her fury. "Your _girlfriend?"_ she hisses venomously.

I shrug. "Well, if I referred to you as just a _friend,_ it would have earned us odd looks for requesting this room," I point out.

She looks around and the more she sees, the more her fury mounts. "There's only one bed!" she snaps. "Are you so _delusional_ as to think I would sleep in the same bed as _you?"_

I smirk. "Well, you could always sleep on the couch," I point out, motioning to it. "Because whether you like it or not, _I_ am sleeping in the bed. Whether you join me in it or not is up to you. But first, I need to go out for an hour. If you are not still in this room when I return, I will hunt you down and you won't like the consequences of running off. When I get back, we'll take care of your needs."

"You're going to leave me here for an _hour?"_ she demands, the volume of her voice rapidly rising.

"You'll be fine so long as you don't open the door to anyone. Need I remind you that I'm a _vampire_ who had been starved of blood for three days and I have spent more than thirty-six hours resisting the increasing urge to sink my fangs into _you_ while you were completely helpless to do anything about it?" I demand. "Your nurse outfit, while cute, is soaked in your blood. If I'm not to sink my fangs into _you,_ I need to go out and find someone I _can_ sink my fangs into." By this point her mouth is working without making a sound. "Now, I'm going to go hunt. I'll be back in an hour. _When_ I get back, I will help you get those 'necessities' you need. _Until_ I get back, you are not to leave this room or open the door to anyone. Take a shower, help yourself to the mini bar, or take a nap for all I care. Just don't open the door leaving this suite for any reason. That's the only rule I'm leaving you with. Break it and, as I said, you will face consequences you won't like."

Without waiting for her to reply, I turn on my heel and walk back out the door. As I make my way out of the hotel, I come up with the plan to catch the kind of prey Elena won't feel so strongly over knowing I drained completely of blood. And, no, I'm not talking about animals. Well, unless you happen to be the kind of person to think humans are just another type of animal. The prey I'm referring to is the lowlifes of human society. Just outside the hotel, I slip my wallet from the secure inner pocket of my jacket and tuck it into my back jeans pocket with some still showing over the pocket. Now that the bait is in place to lure in a pickpocket, I begin meandering around the heavily congested sidewalks of this part of Austin. It will be only a matter of time before some misfortunate pickpocket tries to tackle what seems like irresistible prey only to find themselves on the menu. Literally.

**Elena**

Right after Damon walks out the door

I groan as the door to our suite shuts behind Damon. I don't want to even _consider_ what he would come up with to punish me for breaking his rule, so I'm stuck in this motel room until he gets back. I sigh and decide that a shower is definitely in order. So I immediately head into the bathroom and frown when I realize that both the walk-in shower and the tub are easily large enough for two people. Those combined with the king-sized bed can't be a coincidence. Well, if Damon thinks he's going to get lucky, he's going to get a rude awakening.

For now, though, I'm in dire need of a good, long shower. I strip out of my ruined nurse outfit before carefully removing the bandages Damon had wrapped over my injuries. I carefully examine myself and discover that Damon had been right in that his blood would heal the damage Vicki had inflicted on my body. Even my ribs had healed from the cracks they had suffered. Then I strip out of my bra and panties. I sigh before grabbing the bottle of shampoo, the bar of soap, and a washrag from the counter and carrying them with me into the shower, shutting the door behind me. I just wish that the glass in the shower door was opaque rather than clear. I shake my head to clear it of my thoughts, reminding myself that Damon had to have taken a good long look at my body as he bandaged my injuries.

As I set about scrubbing away the dried blood, dirt, and other results of going more than two days without a bath of any kind on top of getting as injured as I had been, I try to figure out what angle Damon's working with kidnapping me and Teddy. The fact that he wants to wait until Stefan figures out on his own I've been in Damon's unsupervised company since the night Vicki attacked me before letting anyone in Mystic Falls know who my companion is on this road trip tells me that whatever he's up to, it has very little, if anything, to do with his brother. So it has to be about me, something he wants from me. But what it is he could possibly want from me is beyond my ability to figure out. But I have a funny feeling that it has something to do with his referring to me as his girlfriend.

I sigh and shake my head. Even though I had scorned the thought of climbing into bed with Damon, I have the sinking feeling that his words in the car about how he can open a vein on his body and I'd be on it like a leech were nothing less than the truth. If that _is_ the case, then he would have me in the palm of his hand and I'd be helpless to resist whatever he wants from me. I think back on how all I wanted in the car was to keep feasting on his blood, completely willing to do whatever it takes to keep it flowing down my throat. Now I know first hand what a drug addict goes through when they are on their drug of choice. And I feel the drive to do whatever I have to in order to get more of Damon's blood in me, just like an addict who is going without the drug that gives them the best high. I shudder at the feeling. Damon was right in referring to me as a blood addict. I am hopelessly addicted to his blood. I have no idea if it is true for the blood of _any_ vampire or just Damon's blood in particular.

I realize that I'm clean and have just been standing here for a while, lost in my thoughts. With another sigh, I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I dry off before wrapping that towel around my body. I'm not going to put my clothes back on because that would just negate the point of having the shower in the first place. With a grimace, I leave my clothes on the bathroom floor and pad back into the main room of our suite. I go to where I had dropped my purse on the floor and pick it up. Upon looking through it, I am relieved that it still has everything that had been in it Friday night.

I immediately grab my IPod, place my purse on the desk, then hook my IPod up to the provided IPod docking station. I switch it on and look through my playlist before deciding Green Day, Bon Jovi, and All-American Rejects will fit my mixed emotions perfectly. I hit play, repeat, and shuffle before making my way to the mini-bar. I need a buzz to dull the edges of my inner turmoil. The first song to play is _"Back to Me"_ by the All-American Rejects. I listen to it as I browse the selection of drinks the mini-bar has. I finally decide to grab three bottles of high-quality bourbon. I carry them with me to the bed and proceed to drink them. I savor the quality of the alcohol but I know I need to finish these before Damon gets back. I'll need the buzz for whatever he has in store. So while I make sure to savor the alcohol, I also drink it by the mouthful. It can't be that long before he gets back from his hunt.

**Damon**

I smirk as I throw the dead body of the pickpocket foolish enough to try to take my wallet into a big dumpster. There is nothing on him that can be traced back to me _or_ Elena, I made sure of it. I glance at my watch and see that I have some time before I have to head back to the hotel. I figure that Elena's going to want a new outfit before she sets foot out of the motel room, considering her nurse outfit and underwear are ruined.

'Might as well be a gentleman and replace the lady's clothes,' I think, casually making my way out of the alley and back onto the crowded sidewalk.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm walking through the hotel back to our room, a couple of shopping bags in one hand. As I draw closer to our room, I pick up the sound of music and Elena's voice singing along with just the faintest hint of a slur. Apparently she had taken up my suggestion to raid the mini-bar. As I'm typing in the code we were assigned, the song playing ends and _"Shot Through the Heart"_ by Bon Jovi starts up. Elena sings along to this one as well. I hear a faint click of a button.

I shake my head as I press the last number and open the door. I don't bother looking at her until I've shut the door behind me. As soon as I turn around and my eyes land on her, the bags in my hand slip from suddenly lax fingers and I feel all that fresh blood I had recently ingested rush south of the border. She's dressed only in a towel wrapped around her body and is using an empty bourbon bottle as a microphone. Apparently she's a little more drunk than I had thought or she would have at _least_ heard the bags of clothes hit the floor with a dull thud. Her eyes are closed as she bobs her head in time with the music while she sings into her improvised microphone. In her other hand is another bottle of bourbon, this one half empty.

It's only about thirty seconds into the song when she opens her eyes and sees me. The alcohol in her system has given her enough of a buzz to not be the least bit modest about rushing forward and throwing her arms around me. "Okay, someone's tipsy," I remark, carefully prying the half-empty bourbon bottle from her hand so that the bourbon in it doesn't splatter all over my clothes.

"I want blood, Damon!" she cries giddily.

"More than tipsy," I amend, draining the rest of the bottle she started. I'm going to milk this situation for all I can get even though I know I'm going to pay for it once she's sobered up. I glance around to take stock of what had gone on in my absence. Three empty bourbon bottles on the table next to the bed show where Elena had started her drinking. But nearly every surface in the room is sporting some sort of empty alcohol bottle. Suddenly, Elena draws my wandering attention back to her by pulling off a full-body grind against me in time to her music. While I will delight in getting what I can while her inhibitions aren't getting in the way, I still need to remind her where this kind of dancing can lead to. Add in the fact that blood sharing with a vampire is a highly erotic experience, particularly so for those who are blood addicts, and we will most assuredly end up in a very different kind of dance, one that takes place in the king-size bed that is miraculously the only surface that doesn't have any discarded bottles on it. "Elena, while I thoroughly enjoy the idea of where this is going, you had better be sure about this," I warn her, catching her wrists and holding her still. "Because if we do this, I'm not going to let you say I took advantage of you when you sober up. Say 'no' now and we can pretend this scene never happened. If nothing else, there are two good things I can claim proudly. One, I keep my word once I give it, no matter the personal cost. And two, I have never forced myself on my partner. I have never even used my Power to change 'no' to 'yes'. I know you've got enough alcohol in your system to inhibit your sensibilities. But I can plainly see that you are still aware enough to understand what I'm saying. If you concentrate, you can think clearly long enough to come to a decision. Think hard, Elena. Because you are sober enough to remember that I have given you an out once the alcohol is out of your system. From this point on, you will only have yourself to blame if you hate what happens from here once you sober up. Just tell me 'no' and you won't have anything to regret later."

I watch as she briefly debates with herself as much as the alcohol in her system allows for. I'll admit, I'm impressed with her tolerance level. Admittedly, having my blood in her system is bound to boost it, but not enough to negate _that_ many bottles of high quality alcohol. As she thinks, the song ends only to start over. Apparently that click I heard was Elena setting her IPod to repeat this song over and over. Not that I mind, it's actually a pretty good song.

Elena only spends about ten seconds debating it before she grins. "Can I have your blood if we do this?" she asks.

Apparently her addiction to my blood is more serious than I thought. I decide that I _did_ give her a chance to back out. "Blood-sharing happens to be _highly_ erotic," I inform her. "Hence why vampires often sleep with the humans we feed on."

She wrinkles her nose. "Did you…?" she starts.

I shake my head. "No," I reply before she can get far down that line. "I wasn't planning on letting the pickpocket I fed on live, so I didn't bother."

"Are you going to feed on _me_ if we do this?" she asks.

"Well, I _am_ letting you drink my blood," I tease. "I assure you, I can make the bite feel like paradise."

"I've never felt paradise. Show me," she says.

I smirk. "Very well then. Just remember that I _did_ give you an out," I remind her. Before she can begin thinking about that, I pull her into my arms and capture her lips in a searing kiss. I soon break away from the kiss to shrug out of my jacket. She rips the front of my shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere. I only have time to be grateful that it _wasn't_ a John Varvatos before her warm mouth is on my neck while her hands fumble with the fly of my jeans. Before she can destroy those, too, I nudge her hands to the side and unfasten the fly myself.

I can tell just by her scent that I'm about to be the one to claim her virginity and just the _thought_ of her virgin tightness around me makes my dick _ache_ to be inside of her. But even before I turned, I knew enough to treat a virgin's first time with the same kind of care I'd give something made of fine glass. I learned the hard way that being rough during a virgin woman's first time would not only seriously hurt _her_ but will also make the whole experience completely unsatisfying for both of us. No, it takes care and finesse to make a virgin's first time the best possible experience for her and make her come running back for more again and again.

Though with Elena eyeing the tented area in my black silk boxer-briefs with such hunger as she's displaying, it's really hard to remember that she _is_ a virgin and this experience _has_ to be special for her. Make this experience a bad one for her and all my careful planning to make her _mine_ will be set back by _months._ Besides, I, Damon Salvatore, have _never_ let anyone have a bad experience in bed with me since _my_ first time at the ripe age of fourteen, ten long years before I became a vampire. In the hundred-and-fifty-five years since then, I have finely honed my skill at the art of sexual pleasure.

As these thoughts flash through my mind, I quickly finish removing my clothes before daring to place my hands on her towel. "Last chance, Elena," I warn her. "Tell me to stop now and I will still be able to. If you remove this towel, there will be no stopping until I've stolen your virginity." Her slightly hazy eyes widen in surprise. "Vampire, remember?" I remind her. "I can _smell_ the difference between a virgin and someone who's had sex before. The scent change is slightly subtler in men than women, but I can still detect it. Now, this is the point of no return. We can still stop now. But if that towel's removed from your body, nothing will be able to stop this from happening. Sure, I did bandage you up Friday night after we were a few hundred miles from Mystic Falls. But I left your underwear in place. Something tells me that there is no underwear beneath this towel. Is there?" She shakes her head. "Thought not. Now, last chance. Tell me 'no' now, and I'll just hand over the clothes I got for you since your outfit was ruined by your brother's psychopathic vampire girlfriend. I'll send you into the bathroom to get dressed while I clean up out here. Remove the towel and this is going to happen." I remove my hands from the towel and step back. "It's up to you. If you remove that towel, you had better keep it in your mind that I gave you not just one but _two_ chances to stop this. Are you going to ask for the clothes I got you or are you going to remove the towel?"

She doesn't even think about it. She just allows the towel to drop. I allow my eyes to dance over every inch of the front of her body, part of my mind noting down the differences between her and Katherine. Elena's breasts are a little fuller than Katherine's were while her waist is a little slimmer. Then my eyes land on her left hip, where a cute birthmark shaped like two joined hearts with an arrow through them takes center stage over her pelvic bone. The sharp outline would cause some to mistake it for a tattoo, but not me. Katherine didn't have a birthmark. I then continue trailing my eyes over her gorgeous body. Elena's hips are a bit smaller than Katherine's, but, then, if my theory is correct and Elena _is_ descended from Katherine from _before_ the vampiress had turned, well, the fact that Katherine had a child at some point in her human life would explain why her hips were larger than Elena's are. Elena's legs are a hair longer than Katherine's while Katherine's shoulders were a touch broader. All of these differences between their bodies, other than Elena's birthmark, are subtle. So subtle that some people wouldn't realize there are any differences between the two other than Elena's birthmark. Not that I'm going to let anyone who doesn't already know about it find out it even exists after this.

Once my examination of Elena's body is complete, I meet her eyes with a wicked smirk. I step forward to pull her back into my arms for another kiss that is just as searing as the first had been. This time, I press my hips to hers in a silent promise of what's to come. While our tongues wage war for dominance in her mouth, I carefully guide her backwards to the bed and tumble her back onto it once her legs are against it. I land on top of her in a perfectly controlled sprawl, keeping most of my weight braced on my arms and legs. She wraps her arms around my neck and, rather than trying to pull _me_ down, she pulls _herself_ up against me. The pressure of her soft breasts against my firm chest as well as her feminine folds against my throbbing member … well, I have to admit that my eyes roll back in my head for a moment from pleasure and we haven't even started!

I finally defeat her tongue in the war for dominance and end the kiss. I start kissing my way up her jawline then down the side of her throat. I pause a moment to press my blunt teeth against the juncture where her left shoulder meets her neck in a promise of what will be happening there in just a little bit. Then I move my mouth further south until I come to her left nipple, where I latch on and begin showing her how such a precious mound of flesh _should_ be treated. I cup her right breast with my left hand and am quite pleased to find that the fit is absolutely perfect, even _better_ than it had been when it was Katherine's breast I had cupped. I roughly shove all thoughts of Katherine away. It is not fair to Elena to make comparisons, even if _she_ is the one being favored over my sire. I might not have a trace of humanity in me, but I know that each woman should be treated as one-of-a-kind in the bedroom, which they each are. Comparisons put a taint on the experience that the woman you're with can somehow _sense_ even if she's the one being favored over the one you're comparing her to. And once the woman senses that taint, she becomes unsure of herself and the whole experience could be ruined.

Once I'm satisfied I've paid proper homage to Elena's left breast with my mouth, I switch breasts and deal equal treatment to both. Then I move my mouth to the valley between her breasts and continue kissing my way down her body to that glorious _virgin_ spot between her legs. It's been quite some time since I last had the pleasure of deflowering a virgin and feeling that innocent _tightness_ around me. The mere thought of it makes my dick pulse in anticipation. I have to pause a moment with my lips at her pelvic bone to reassert control over myself. I sense more than feel Elena prop herself up on her elbows. I cast my gaze up at her with an audacious wink before parting her legs, spreading them wide enough that I can lie down between them with my face looking right at that most intimate part of her body. I'll admit that she does startle me when she raises herself a little higher to watch. There aren't many girls who are brave enough to _watch_ while I orally pleasure their feminine parts. The fact that Elena's one such girl gives me a thrill of pride over being able to show her what the experience _should_ be like.

With that thought, I lean in and close my mouth over that nexus of super-sensitive nerves known as her clit. "Oh!" she cries in surprise. Apparently whatever is in those trashy romance novels I found tucked away in her room, it was not enough to prepare her for _me._ Good to know. While I alternate between flicking that nexus with my tongue and _very_ gently nipping at it with blunt teeth, I raise my right hand to trail my index finger over the slit leading into that precious, virgin tightness that my dick will soon call heaven. Upon finding that it's already slick with her juices, I carefully, oh so carefully, ease my finger into that slit. I then hold my finger still while that tight, moist place learns to accept such a firm intrusion. Snooping about while the Gilbert house was empty has told me many things about Elena, including that she's a tampon girl. But tampons are essentially cotton, which is soft and malleable. So even though her lovely little womanhood is used to having something shoved into it, the hard shell is removed after a second, leaving the cotton. My finger has bones in it, which makes it firm. And it's not going anywhere. Her body isn't used to that. So I have to _make_ it get used to it because, before long, my dick is going to be in there and it's bigger than _three_ fingers.

While her body gets used to my finger, I continue pleasurably teasing Elena's clit. That will help get her body adjusted to this faster because when it starts associating something firm intruding in her womanhood with _pleasure,_ well, it will want more pleasure and thus will accept the intrusion more easily because intrusion means pleasure. It took me two years as a gawky adolescent fumbling around with the daughters of servants to figure all this out. But only my first foray into the world of sexual pleasures resulted in complete disaster to the point that the girl I wanted to tumble was never able to handle the touch of anyone _down there_ again. But even as a nurse did her best to examine her, the poor girl never spoke up with the name of _who_ had hurt her so badly. In the end, the girl was sent off to a nunnery in hopes that the nuns and God could help ease her turmoil. Not even Stefan knows that I'm behind that fiasco. And, unfortunately, every time I'm with a virgin, thoughts of that girl flood my head to remind me to be _careful_ with _this_ virgin. Even with my humanity switch flipped firmly "off", the memory of that screw-up haunts me with each virgin I take into my arms. And I can't get her off my mind until I'm sure I have made the first time of the virgin I'm with the incredible experience it can be. She only haunts me with the virgins on their first time. I can't even remember her name but I can't forget her face: slightly oval, covered in freckles, long strawberry blonde hair that fell straight down to her waist, and bright emerald green eyes. She had been so excited by my proposed 'adventure' that afternoon. When we snuck away after the sunset and met up in the loft of the cattle barn on the Salvatore plantation, she had been nervous but quite willing to exchange first times with me. But I had been stupid enough to try to _rush_ because we didn't want to be caught. And in trying to rush, I had torn her up so badly that I doubt even vampire blood would have been much help to her.

Even as my thoughts get lost in the past, my body keeps moving in the here and now. By now, I have two fingers alternating pumping and curling while keeping a constant scissoring pattern. I judge that it is safe to add a third finger to the mix. I do so and then that poor girl's face returns to my mind's eye and my mind is pulled back into the past.

By the time we had realized just how royally I had screwed up in trying to rush, it was too late. The damage had been done. Modern doctors would have sworn that she had been raped. People of those days, however, knew that kids tended to start fooling around early and since we didn't have any of the modern books, videos, or anything in any way describing what _should_ happen, the doctors and nurses of those days saw many cases like hers, where two kids had wanted to fool around but had been trying rush it so they didn't get caught. And the poor girls always got the worse end of the deal. But she had kept her lips sealed over who she had been with. She was just a lesser servant's daughter, after all. I _told_ her I would take the blame, but she told me that she would not let me take the fall for an accident. She told me that next time, even if it wasn't with her, I'd know not to rush. And I have never rushed the experience at any time since. She had been a pretty good friend of mine, as much as a servant's daughter can be friends with the oldest son of her mother's master. Just an hour before she left in the wagon bound for the nunnery, she had taken me to the side and given me a carefully carved tiny wooden stallion rearing up on its back hooves and pawing the air with its fronts, its reins flying around its head and no saddle. She never said why she took what was obviously days of painstaking care to carve the thing. She only said that the stallion symbolized me, in her eyes, and she wanted me to have it. She said the girl who recognized what it symbolized, she would be the one. I still have that damn thing, tucked away in the glove box of my Camaro. I never did understand what she meant by the girl recognizing the thing symbolizes me would be 'the one'. Not even Stefan knows about it. The wooden stallion and what I did to that girl are two things he does not know about me. Probably the only two things he has no clue of about my human days.

I return to the present to feel Elena's walls clenching slightly around my fingers. That's the signal I need to pull my fingers out and quickly suck them clean. The scent of her arousal heightens and then I stick my tongue into that tight, moist heat. That's all that's needed to set her off on her first orgasm. She cries out, a sound of mingled pain and pleasure, as her juices rush over my tongue, into my mouth, and down my throat. And if she isn't the most delicious thing I've ever had the pleasure of tasting, I'll eat my favorite jacket. I have grown able to tell a lot about a sexual experience simply by the taste of my partner's first orgasm. And what I'm tasting tells me that not only am I going to rock Elena's world, she just _might_ rock mine as well.

When her release finally plays out and she's lying panting on the bed, I swirl my tongue around just inside her core, determined to get as much of her juices as I can. Finally, I pull my tongue back into my mouth. Before I can do more than sit up, Elena's recovered enough to sit up as well. "My turn," she says, eyeing my pulsating dick hungrily.

Okay, I'll admit it; _those_ words almost cause me to come undone without any further help needed. I have to quickly calm myself because it would _not_ be cool to jack off just because a girl says she wants to perform oral sex on you. Once I'm back in control of myself, I arch an eyebrow at her. "How do you want me?" I tease.

"Like that is perfectly fine," she croons. She leans forward from her position and licks off the pre-cum already forming on my tip. Dear God, she was _serious!_ Elena is by far the _least_ shy of the virgins I've deflowered!

"Just remember, _you_ are the one who chose to do this," I manage to get out just before she encases the entire head of my dick with her mouth.

"Mm-hmm," she gets out around my dick.

To distract myself so I don't lose it before it even gets _started,_ I take note of how she's positioned. I never thought a human body could be so flexible as to be seated cross-legged on a bed while the torso lays flat on that bed with the chest _touching_ the bed. But, then, Elena _was_ a cheerleader for several years, and they tend to be a pretty flexible lot of female athletes. Suddenly, Elena grabs my attention back to what she's doing by gently nipping at my dick, just past my head. I grit my teeth, determined that she's going to have to _work_ for any moans she draws from me. Unfortunately, she seems just as determined to have me emitting moans and gasps as if this was my very first blowjob. She nibbles and suckles at my head and the fight against those moans and gasps that want to erupt from my mouth becomes pretty damn intense. When she brings her hands in to play with my balls while deep-throating me at the same time, I'm a goner. Teeth, hands, lips, tongue, dammit! The girl's employing everything to make me sound like I have never even _heard_ of the term blowjob, much less _experienced_ one. Just when I'm about to explode, Elena deep-throats me a second time while humming her pleasure and the force of my release leaves me temporarily blinded. While my vision clears, Elena eases back off my dick, using her tongue to clean it at the same time. By the time she's completely off, my vision's cleared, and dammit all, the girl has me ready to go _again!_

It's a damn good thing I've already sworn off any other lover but this one, because _no one_ can compete with Elena! Even Katherine falls far short of _this_ girl's power over my body. Elena smirks at me. I smirk back before diving onto her to kiss her, plunging my tongue past her lips into her mouth so we can share flavors. And the combination is heavenly! While keeping the ferocious kiss up, I carefully rearrange us so that I'm braced on top of her again. I lower my right hand to make sure that her core is still ready for this. Once I'm assured she's still as ready as I can possibly make her, I carefully ease into her, pushing past that thin film of flesh that marks her virginity. She gasps her pain into our kiss. Rather than try to pull away, she wraps her legs around my hips and pulls me even deeper, all the way in so that my pelvic bone is resting against her clit. I rest there a moment as I pull away from the kiss. "Now for the very best part," I tell her wickedly.

"Oh?" she asks raggedly.

"Now it's time for the blood-sharing," I reply. Her face positively _glows_ at that. "Now, you should know, your teeth _are_ capable of breaking my skin. It's just like human skin only it _heals_ a lot faster from injury." I raise my right hand to the joint where her neck meets her shoulder. "I'm going to bite you right here. I want you biting the same place on me. And _that's_ when things will _really_ get intense. You're about to find out precisely why I typically have sex with those I'm feeding on. And you're going to become even _more_ addicted to my blood because of it." She stiffens slightly. "It's too late to stop, Elena. I gave you two opportunities to stop and you wanted to continue. Now we're going to go all the way. On three. One." I slowly lower my mouth toward the juncture I had told her I'm going to bite. I feel her lowering her head at the same pace toward that same juncture on my neck. "Two," I say before vamping out and gently resting my fangs at my favorite spot to drink from a human. I feel her blunt human teeth rest on the same spot on my neck. "Three," I breathe before biting down. Her teeth sink into me at the same time.

As I said, there is a _very_ good reason why vampires typically feed on their human prey during sex, but I very rarely allow my prey to feed on me at the same time. Of course, Elena's not 'prey'. If anything, she's 'potential mate'. As I told her, blood-sharing can be highly erotic, and particularly so when both vampire and human are feeding on each other at the same time. As we simultaneously pull in our first mouthful of each other's blood, the arousal we are both feeling intensifies a hundred-fold. At our second mouthful, I pick up the rhythm of slowly pulling out of her until just the tip of my head is in her then rapidly pushing back in until my pelvic bone brushes against her clit. Each time it does so, her teeth sink slightly deeper into my flesh briefly. The body wants to cry out at the pleasurable sensation but the blood-addict doesn't want to give up its drug, so they compromise by biting down briefly each time. This part of sex is typically the loudest, but not for us, not when we're too busy enhancing the experience through the sharing of blood.

The only noise in the room is her IPod blaring that song on repeat, the slightly wet _slap_ when my pelvic bone hits her clit, and the sound of our feeding. And it's the most erotic combination of sounds I have ever encountered. Elena pauses between swallowing mouthfuls of my blood to breathe through her nose. 'Smart girl,' I think. Some blood-addicts don't have enough control to realize that by pausing between mouthfuls of blood to breath through their nose, they can keep drinking the blood as long as the vampire allows them to rather than having to stop every so often to gasp for air.

As our pleasure spirals higher and higher, I know I'm going to have to pull her off me when this is over, just like I had to when she drank from my wrist in the car. That's the problem with any addict: they can't stop themselves from indulging in their drug of choice without having someone prying them away from it. When we finally tumble over the edge of ecstasy, I'm startled that Elena actually _purrs_ from it. Well, then, she's got herself a nickname now: kitten. Sure, she might not be happy about it, but she shouldn't do something so catlike. I morph my face back to that of the man, allowing my fangs to withdraw from Elena's skin. Thanks to how much of my blood she had consumed today, she heals from the bite _almost_ as fast as a vampire would. I sigh as I reach my left hand up and carefully pry her off my neck. Carefully, because she could latch her teeth into one of my fingers and continue feeding on my blood. As soon as I have her away from my neck, I vamp out of bed and away from her, further denying her my blood. "You've had enough, Elena," I tell her sternly from the wall opposite the bed. I frown when she doesn't respond, or even sit up. I cautiously approach the bed and groan when I see that she had fallen asleep. "I wore you out, huh?" I ask rhetorically. "Well, a little sleep will allow my blood to get rid of the alcohol in your system."

I decide to set about cleaning up the room. I contemplate turning her IPod off or at least turning the volume down, but I decide against it. It's a good song, after all. I look around to see if there's anything else I need to do. Upon finding nothing else that needs attending, I decide to climb back in bed and take a nap as well. As I make myself comfortable next to Elena, she rolls over in her sleep, ending up with her right arm slung across my waist and her head pillowed on my chest. I smirk before closing my eyes and forcing my body to relax into sleep. It obeys like it does every time. But if Elena makes any movement that isn't caused by sleep, I'll awake in an instant, completely alert. It's that battle-readiness that saved my life countless times in the Civil War and I have never let the ability so much as fade since I acquired it.


	4. Hell Hath No Fury

For Lack of a Better Name  
DG32173

Sarah: I don't know _why_ I feel like I should keep apologizing for Damon of last chapter. Maybe because I didn't have him fight Elena's advances as much as he would have if he had his humanity switch 'on'. I don't know. Anyways, here's the next chapter, the one in which Elena wakes up stone-cold sober with perfect memory of what went on. Damon's in for it big time. Anyways, I'm glad everyone is enjoying this lovely rendition of Delena as much as they are. Here's the review replies then on with the chapter! Just so you know, this chapter starts with Elena.

_**NOTICE**_  
As with the motel I'm having Damon and Elena stay in overnight, Botticelli's South Congress is indeed a _real_ Italian restaurant in Austin. I intend on using as many real locations during their road trip as I can find through Google. I will be using the associated websites to get as much detail about these locations as I can get my hands on. The odds that I've actually _been_ to any of these places is next to nil so I'm using what I can find online as the source of how I will describe these places. But you can rest assured that I do plan on filling in what I can't confirm for fact with my imagination. So while the locations are real, their portrayal in this story are a mixture of fact and imagination and are highly unlikely to be precisely what you will find if you ever _do_ visit these places.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_damon-elena-delena:_ you'll find out this chapter what Damon's theory is on what kind of blood-addict Elena is, but it will be a while before he actually puts that theory to the test. Here's the update.

_kfulmer7:_ yeah, Damon wanted to be able to point out to Elena in no uncertain terms that he _had_ given her chances to stop the action before it got to the point of no return, which he has _never_ done with another partner. Here's more.

_rcardinals4:_ thanks for the compliments!

_PattyFleur87:_ you keep making me blush with the high praise in your reviews! Thanks so much!

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Chapter 4  
Hell Hath No Fury

I wake up with none of the usual phases of gradually lessening grogginess. That's unfortunate. With such instant awareness comes the memory of what had happened just prior to losing consciousness. And that is just downright unpleasant. Oh, no, I'm not talking about the sensations. That was easily better than any paradise I could have thought of before. But the one who _gave_ me that experience … that's where the unpleasantness comes in. And the fact that he merely _asked_ me in my drunken state if I was _sure_ I wanted it … well, I'm downright furious now.

But, also unfortunate, I seem to be laying half on top of him at this time and if I so much as alter my breathing pattern, he's going to wake up in the same instantaneous fashion I did. I'm not an idiot. Stefan told me that Damon had served in the Confederate Army during the Civil War for three straight years before being allowed a chance to return home. All that time _had_ to have instilled in him a combat-readiness that he would _not_ have let fade a lick in all this time. I can't even open my eyes because my face is pressed against his chest and he will feel my eyelashes gliding across his skin.

I want to run, run and keep on running. But I don't dare do anything except pull off the best act of being asleep that four years of drama classes can manage. I've even tricked Stefan with my acting skills. But Damon is not Stefan. Damon's vampire abilities are far superior to Stefan's and that's simply because of their main diets since they turned. My bet is he's just as awake as I am right now and pretending to be asleep just as I am trying to do. So, now it's a question of whose _patience_ can last longer. _That's_ where I will definitely come out on top. Damon has _zero_ patience to speak of. Sure, he was patient and gentle with my first time but he wanted to get his pleasure and he knew that if he wasn't patient and gentle with me, he would _not_ be getting his pleasure. It was all about the sex. And maybe the thought of getting to taste my blood. Outside of the bedroom, he has absolutely _zero_ patience.

I, on the other hand, have on countless summer days sat as still as a vampire can get, save for breathing, for hours on end, just in the hope of getting a butterfly to land on me. And on the majority of those days, my efforts went unrewarded. But I kept going to that clearing near Mystic Falls where they seem to gather by the thousands day-after-day. In the very end, on the last day of the butterfly season the summer between freshman and sophomore years, I was more than rewarded for my patience by having _hundreds_ of them decide to rest their wings by landing on me all at once. If I am never to have another butterfly land on me, that experience alone will more than make up for it.

But I'm getting off topic. Since we are quite likely stuck in a waiting game of who will crack first due to impatience, it's no contest: I will win. And while I wait for him to give in to his impatience, my fury at him boils within me, growing stronger by the second. I don't know how much time passes, but it's not nearly enough to make me crack when he gives voice to his amusement. "If it weren't for the tension crackling in the air, I'd almost think you _like_ this position," he remarks dryly.

That's my cue to rise up while simultaneously slamming my fist into the most painful place a man can be hit, be he vampire or human. The words that fall off his tongue at _that_ are more than strong enough to color the air blue if it were actually possible. Apparently he had _not_ expected that reaction out of me. While he's trying to recover function over more than just his mouth and vocal chords, I fling myself out of the bed and storm over to the IPod docking station to turn off my IPod. I'm going to have to remember to _never_ listen to that song again.

As soon as I turn off the blaring music, the hair rises on the back of my neck when I realize Damon's litany of curses had cut off. In the next instant, I find myself pinned to a wall with Damon's hand on my neck. He's glaring furiously into my eyes, his blue eyes as cold as the very ice they get their color from. "Bad move, little girl," he snarls. He raises his arm slowly and I find myself being lifted off the floor. Soon, he has me hanging a good three or four inches off the floor with just his arm to my throat supporting my weight. I'm finding it very hard to get air into my lungs as I claw wildly at his hand with my fingers, trying to get him to let me go. He applies a bit more pressure, enough that I start seeing black spots swimming across my vision. "You had better listen to what I'm about to say and remember it. You have my blood in your system. There are any number of ways I could kill you right now and turn you into a vampire and no one will know it happened. I plan on _keeping_ my blood in your system. Next time you think about trying a stunt like that, you better remember that I can snap your neck as easily as you can snap a toothpick and think better of it. I very rarely give second chances. This is yours. Only my brother is able to get further chances because he _is_ my brother. You? You are just a human girl I decided to drag along for this road trip because I _felt_ like it. And remember: I'm a _vampire._ I _accept_ that I'm a vampire. At any time I so choose, I can make you a vampire as well. And your addiction to my blood gives me the perfect way to keep my blood in your system. If I break open one of my veins, you'll be on it like a leech because you won't be able to stop yourself. And if you ever begin to think that being a vampire will save you from your little addiction to my blood, _think again._ My blood will just be even _more_ intoxicating to you because your sense of taste will be even _more_ keen. There are two types of blood-addicts, Elena. One type is addicted to vampire blood in general and isn't as heavily affected by it. The other type is addicted to a _particular_ vampire's blood and is practically _driven_ to drink from that vampire as much as possible. Considering your symptoms, my guess is you're in the second type of blood-addicts and _I_ just so happen to be your drug of choice. So like it or not, you've been stuck with me since I fed you my blood in the car and _will_ be stuck with me for the rest of your life, even if you live for eternity. Because after that first taste of my blood, you became unable to walk away, _ever._ I'm sure that having so many druggies in that town of yours, you know full well what happens when the drug of choice is withheld. The addict goes through withdrawal. Unfortunately for _you,_ blood-addicts are never able to resume normal function after a set amount of time in withdrawal. It gets worse and worse and _worse._ It doesn't _stop_ getting worse until the blood addict gets what they are craving again. So suck it up because you're _stuck_ with me from here on."

With that he releases my throat and steps back as I collapse to the floor. I reach a hand up to massage my neck. "I did it because you took advantage of my intoxication," I manage to gasp out. The only reason I'm not glaring at him is because I need my vision to clear enough for me to _see_ what I'm glaring at.

"Baby, I gave you _two_ outs. _Two._ Normally when a girl throws herself at me, I just swoop her up in my arms and show her the time of her life. But I didn't do that with you. I gave you _two_ chances to stop the action and walk away. And don't go trying to play the card of 'how were you supposed to think clearly with all the alcohol in your system'. Not gonna fly, missy. I am able to judge when someone is inebriated enough to be completely unable to think clearly. _You_ were only to the point of inebriation where the alcohol tossed your inhibitions to the wind, _not_ your mind. You _wanted_ me to show you a good time and you didn't have your inhibitions telling you what a bad idea it is because it's _me._"

"You're an ass," I groan, trying to remember how to make my body work so I can make it stand up.

"Well, let's put it this way. What do you think dear _St. Stefan_ would have given you for your first time?" he asks in a blow that is just as low as the one I had dealt him with my fist.

"Don't go there," I growl in warning.

"Oh, I'm _going_ there. I'll tell you this much, he wouldn't have given you what _I_ did. He isn't _able_ to give that kind of experience because, frankly, he has only been with _one_ woman in his life. And _she_ had to play the lead each and every time. _I_ have always played the lead, even with _her._ It takes experience to give a virgin what I gave you. _Lots_ of experience. I have more than a century-and-a-half of experience to call on and _I rocked your world._ Now that your sensibilities are back, you just can't get over the fact that you gave yourself to me because _I'm_ the bad guy. But I'll tell you this much, _no_ good guy would have _ever_ been capable of giving you what I gave you on your first time. I can assure you, after the first time, it only gets better."

"That's never going to happen again," I hiss.

"Oh, won't it?" he asks cockily. "If I recall correctly, I came in after purchasing you a complete outfit because I knew you wouldn't want to wear that blood-stained nurse outfit ever again. I came in and you threw yourself at me while crying out that you wanted blood. I warned you what would happen if we went down that road. You thought about it for exactly ten seconds. Even the human mind can think quite a few things in ten seconds. What you decided at the end of those ten seconds was that my blood would be worth anything that happened. I then gave you a second out by making you the one to choose whether that towel left your body. You didn't even hesitate in dropping the towel. As I said, _two_ outs. I've never given my partner even one chance to change their mind before today. So it's all on _you._ Now, it's time for you to get dressed. I intend to uphold what I said about taking care of your needs. We've got the hotel room. You've had your shower. As much as you'd probably want another to wash _me_ off of you, I feel the need to remind you that I'm in your bloodstream, _literally._ Just like you're in _mine._ Now it's time to get you something more substantial to eat than dead sperm and vampire blood. Then we're going to go shopping for those other necessities you need. And need I remind you that a certain time of the month is coming upon you soon? I can _smell_ it." I gape up at him in a mix of horror and fury. "Get up. Get dressed. Pronto. If you want privacy, there's a perfectly acceptable bathroom that has a door, which _does_ lock, right over there so don't expect me to turn my back."

With that, he makes his way over to his clothes and starts getting dressed. I fight back my tears as I use the wall to shakily get to my feet. I stumble my way across the room, past him, and grab the shopping bags he had brought back from his hunting trip before retreating to the bathroom, where I close _and_ lock the door. I know that if he _really_ wanted in, a mere locked door wouldn't stop him. But it has only been in recent months that I have found out that locked doors do _not_ equal safety. Not long enough for it to get hammered into my subconscious. So locking the knob allows my body to relax a little. I try to keep my sobs silent as my tears break free of my control while I get dressed. Having to take care of the tags and stickers gives me plenty of reason to take my time so that I can vent my frustrations the only way I know how to do so safely. Damon just reminded me that he is in all reality a dangerous predator, for all that he is a most tender and considerate lover. But that's how it is in the wild, right? The more dangerous the species, the more care they take in the art of lovemaking. And Damon is a part of the top predatory species in the world, even above man: vampires. I bet even the wildest and most ferocious of animal species would know enough to leave _him_ alone. And I shouldn't have forgotten how dangerous he can be even in my fury.

**Damon**

I frown as I hear the faint sounds a woman makes when she's trying to hold back sobs coming from the bathroom Elena had locked herself in. Jeez, I hadn't meant to make her _cry._ I was just trying to make her realize that she's stuck with me whether she likes it or not and she needs to play nice if she wants me to be nice to her. And dammit, that punch to the jewels _hurt._ It hurt a _lot_ more than it would have hurt a human man because all my senses had been heightened to the max the day I awoke in transition to becoming a vampire. Sure, it might not have hurt for as _long,_ but it made up for that by being even _more_ excruciating.

I do my best to tune her out as I finish putting on the rest of my clothes that are still whole. Finally, I lift up the shirt Elena had destroyed in her haste to rid me of it. Sure, it wasn't John Varvatos, but it was still a good shirt. Now its buttons are all over the room and I'm betting there are some that won't be found for a long time coming. I sigh when Elena's attempt to stifle her tears doesn't stop. I briefly debate apologizing but decide against it. She would know damn well that the only reason I'm apologizing is because I didn't mean to make her cry, not that I regret anything I said or did to her. She is a member of that inexplicable and unknowable species known as women. There is no way a man can understand them. I've studied them for a hundred-and-fifty-five years and I have as much insight to the workings of their minds as I did when I started that study, which is _none._

At least Elena's being productive while crying. I can hear her getting the clothes I got her out of their bags and ridding them of their tags and stickers. Admittedly, she's doing it slowly so as to give her time to get control of herself, but she's not stopping in her tasks and they're getting done. When I bought the clothes earlier, I had to firmly remind myself that Elena would not only _not_ appreciate the clothes I _wanted_ to buy her but she might actually insist on wearing that ruined nurse costume in public rather than be seen in them. So I did a little compromising on both our parts. What I finally selected are a good deal less modest than what she wore in her day-to-day life in Mystic Falls but a good deal _more_ modest than what I wanted to get her. I had never taken the time to snoop through her actual _clothes,_ just at what possible treasures she had hidden behind or beneath them. But I've long practiced the art of figuring out if something will fit someone comfortably just by looking at it. Whether they'll _feel_ comfortable _wearing_ it, that's something I've never had to consider before. Elena had better appreciate my efforts to compromise on what she'll wear when I'm in charge of the selection.

I decide the shirt is not even worth the trouble of buying all new buttons to repair and toss it into the trash can across the room. "Three-pointer," I tell myself softly when I make it in without any fabric hanging over the rim. I decide I've given Elena enough time to dwell in her tears. "Okay, Elena, you better hurry up or I'm going to pick that lock so I can come in there and dress you myself since you're taking _way_ too long," I call to her. She mutters something unintelligible to even _my_ ears and that's quite the feat. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," I tell her. "Care to repeat?"

"I'm almost done," she snaps. "I can't _believe_ this is all you could find!"

"Darling, _that_ is not what I would have bought if I hadn't kept your delicate sensibilities firmly in mind. As it is, I compromised. After we get some _real_ human food in you, then I'll take you shopping and let you buy all the absolutely _boring_ girl-next-door clothes you seem so fond of."

"It's not girl-next-door!" she protests.

"Uh, _yes,_ it is. It's _boring._ It screams 'don't look anywhere except my face because there's _nothing_ to look at _except_ my face'. You need some excitement in your wardrobe, kitten. Once I wear down those irritating sensibilities of yours enough to get you to try a wider range of clothing, _then_ you will see that I'm right."

"Did you just call me '_kitten'?"_ she screeches indignantly.

"All those words and it's the _nickname_ that she latches onto," I comment loud enough for her to hear me clearly. _"Yes,_ I called you 'kitten'. _No,_ I'm not going to stop. You're stuck with it. Deal. Now, chop-chop! Finish getting dressed at a _decent_ speed or I'm coming in there and dressing you myself."

At least her fury over the nickname had stopped her tears entirely. Barely a minute later, she comes out. I'm amused to see that my hunch was right and she _is_ one of those rare people who can cry their heart out and not leave any sign of it after rubbing their face with a damp washrag to get rid of the tearstains. I take the time to admire the view of her dressed in the clothes I got her. The blood red, ribbed tank top fits her torso like a second skin, the way it's meant to. She's wearing denim short-shorts that end what seems like _miles_ above her knees, showing off her gloriously long legs. Unfortunately, I'm not as good at guessing someone's shoe size as I am their sizes in other clothes, so I bought her a package of six pairs of white ankle socks to wear with her tennis shoes. I intend on getting her at least a couple other pairs of shoes. While she _does_ look better when she's not wearing those relatively baggy clothes that are typical of the girl-next-door theme she prefers, I'd still _love_ to see her in something even more suited to enhance her beauty rather than hide it.

"You'll do," I say finally. I note that she's frowning as she eyes my bare chest. "You ripped my shirt open, sending the buttons flying all over the place, in your haste to undress me," I remind her with a smirk. Her cheeks turn crimson. "I'm going to have to grab a new one out of the trunk of the Camaro. Now, c'mon, let's get moving."

I turn on my heel without waiting for her to reply and lead the way out of our hotel. I do pull off the gentleman routine of holding the door to both our room and the one leading from the hotel to the street for her. I stop at my car to grab a new shirt from the trunk and put it on followed by my jacket. In spite of the intense desert heat, I'm not the only one sporting a leather jacket.

I chuckle when Elena seems to think we'll be climbing in my car. "We're not driving," I tell her. "We're walking."

"But…" she starts to protest.

"Kitten, you obviously have no idea how big cities work. Most people either walk or use public transportation, depending on how far they plan on going. The streets are packed enough as is by tourists and public transport. We might not be from around here, but I'm not going to waste time abiding by inner city traffic flow when we can just as easily hit the restaurants and shopping in this area at a much faster rate on foot. Now let's go."

I don't give her a chance to come up with any further attempts to protest. Instead, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her down the sidewalk to the nearest cross walk. It takes a matter of minutes for us to walk to the Italian restaurant I decided to take her to. Botticelli's South Congress is one of my favorite restaurants in Austin simply because they take the time to make their dishes as much from scratch as possible while still keeping pace with the clientele's patience for such things. And the taste is _almost_ enough to be reminiscent of my memories of my mother's cooking from when she was still alive. She had died shortly after giving birth to my brother due to complications that arose. In those days, there wasn't much that could be done about such complications and the mothers generally lost their lives because of them.

I shake my head briefly to clear it as we step into the restaurant. The blonde hostess smiles warmly at us. "Welcome to Botticelli's South Congress," she greets. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes," I reply, catching her mind with mine when she makes the mistake of meeting my eyes. "We have a reservation under Salvatore."

"Ah, Mister Salvatore, welcome," she says. She grabs a couple of menus. "Right this way." She leads us to a rather private table for two in the back, near the doors leading out to the beer garden. She sets the menus on either side of the table. "Your server will be with you shortly," she tells us before heading back to the front.

Elena and I pick up our menus, but I note Elena's frown when she realizes she can't understand the names of the dishes. "What on earth?" she demands, looking up to glare at me.

"This _is_ an Italian restaurant," I point out. "The dishes are all Italian recipes."

She sighs and puts her menu down. "I take it you have an idea of what I'd want to eat?" she asks sarcastically.

"I was thinking you'd like the Ravioli di Zucca Gialla," I reply. "It's basically ravioli stuffed with butternut squash served in brown butter and sage sauce and topped with parmesan and chili flakes."

"It _does_ sound good," she admits reluctantly.

"Excellent," I say with a smirk. I flip over to the wines section of the menu. I decide that splitting a bottle of Vitalonga Rose wine won't hurt her, considering how much of the harder stuff it had taken to get her just a little more than tipsy but not fully drunk.

At that moment, our waitress, a petite brunette, comes to our table. "Hello, I'm Maura and I'll be your waitress today," she greets. "Have you decided what you'd like to order?"

"Yes," I tell her. "My girlfriend would like the Ravioli di Zucca Gialla. I'd like the Le Cozze alla Trota. And we'd like a bottle of Vitalonga Rose to share," I tell her.

"Very good, I'll take your order to the kitchen and will be right back with that bottle," she says.

"What is Vitalonga Rose?" Elena asks suspiciously.

"A kind of rose wine," I tell her. She starts to open her mouth to protest but I silence her with a look. "You ingested many bottles of alcohol that were a good deal stronger than mere wine and all it did was cause you to lose your inhibitions. That nap was long enough for my blood to get rid of all the alcohol in your system. Half a bottle of rose wine is so completely harmless compared to what you ingested earlier, I highly doubt that you'll even get a faint buzz from it. As I said, I'll be sharing in that bottle of wine."

She sighs and changes the topic. "So what is it you ordered?" she asks.

"Prince Edward Island mussels steamed with brown butter, capers, lemon, and topped with bread crumbs," I reply.

"That sounds good, too," she says softly.

I shrug. "If you want, we can share," I tell her. "I'll let you eat some of my food if you'll let me eat some of yours."

She frowns as she thinks about it. What I suggested is something a _real_ couple will do and while she'll keep her mouth shut over my claiming her as my girlfriend, I can tell she's not at all sure about doing something that will send that image across to anyone who happens to be watching us. Finally, though, she sighs and nods. Apparently the dish I ordered sounds good enough that she'd allow people who might be watching us to come to such a misconception. She still has no idea that I fully intend to make that misconception into nothing less than fact. Actually, to be honest, after finding out just how adept she is as a lover with just instinct to go by, I intend on taking our relationship _much_ further than merely boyfriend/girlfriend. Perhaps all the way up to eternal mates, but _that_ will take a lot of patience and planning on my part to make her perfectly willing to commit solely to me for eternity. And both parties have to be completely willing or the mating mark won't appear.

Unfortunately, I'm going to have to test my theory about her being addicted to strictly my blood rather than vampire blood in general. Which means finding a vampire and getting both her and that vampire to agree to the test while _I_ fight down the intense fury the mere _thought_ of her drinking another vampire's blood sends surging through me. The only vampire I can think of that I'd be willing to commit such a test with is Lexi. And _she_ will undoubtedly tell Stefan precisely whose company Elena is keeping as well as what I asked of her and the results. And then my idiot brother will get it in his head to hunt us down and try to tear us apart because he has absolutely _no_ idea what it means to separate a blood-addict and the vampire who's blood she's addicted to.

All these thoughts flash through my mind in a matter of seconds while I make Elena thoroughly uncomfortable by blatantly eyeing her chest. The clinging fabric of her top reveals for more than it hides. I can even just make out the outline of her new lace-and-silk bra. The fact that I can only _just_ make it out from across a relatively small table is a good thing because it means that none of the human males around us will be able to without getting right on top of her. Elena fidgets uncomfortably in her chair, turning her head to scan the room for any sign of our waitress every so often.

I am a little amused by the fact that she hasn't questioned my ability to eat human food. Surely she's wondered about it from time to time. Of course, both Stefan _and_ I had eaten our fair share of the meal that Elena had originally made just for her, Stefan, and Bonnie. She hadn't known at the time that we were vampires but once she did uncover the fact, surely she must have been curious. After all, there aren't any folktales about vampires sitting down and consuming human food as well as blood.

When the waitress finally arrives with our bottle of wine and a pair of wine glasses, she profusely apologizes for the wait. I just wave her apologies to the side and point out that we can see quite well that it's fairly crowded in here, which it is. She relaxes at the fact that we aren't taking the extended wait poorly and proceeds to place a wine glass in front each of us before filling them from the wine bottle. She then sets the wine bottle back in its little bucket of ice and sets that bucket on the inside of the table. She vows that our food will be much more prompt in arriving before going off to check on the other patrons under her charge.

Elena sighs and reaches for her glass of wine to take a sip of it. At first touch, she jerks her hand away when she realizes it's made of real crystal, her eyes widening in shock. She takes a steadying breath before picking it up and sipping at her wine. I smirk. She's not used to such luxury. I intend on blowing her mind at the luxuries I'll heap on her in the process of wooing her to willingly be at my side. It's been a very long time since I last had to _work_ to win a girl over. Ever since I turned, I have used my irresistible good looks and my charm to ensnare them and then my Power to keep them in the trap until I was done toying with them. I could _always_ snatch that hideous necklace from her neck and use my Power to have her, but it would only sour the relationship in the end rather than better it. And once I turn her, the spell I cast over her mind with my Power will disappear, at which point I will fully pay for cheating my way to her heart.

The mere thought of her necklace, though causes me to glance at it. If nothing else, I'm going to have to replace the ridiculous piece of junk with something much more fitting to Elena's beauty. I'm half-tempted to give her Mother's jewelry set, but the mere thought of how connected to her I'll be because of it is disturbing. I'm still not happy that that unnamed witch decided to cast the spell that will put up empathy link between me and the woman I give it to. Maybe further down the line, when she _doesn't_ hate me quite so venomously, I'll reconsider. But not now. It's bad enough _knowing_ she'd rather be anywhere else in the world than sitting at this table with me under the guise of my girlfriend, it would be even _worse_ feeling how much she despises me and the situation she became trapped in at the first taste of my blood.

It's rather unfortunate that even now, her fury over what I 'allowed' to happen still simmers within her and is one of the reasons she'd rather look _anywhere_ but at me. Not the only one, oh no, but it is still one of the prominent reasons she refuses to meet my gaze. 'Hell hath no fury,' I think sardonically. Admittedly, I hadn't scorned her. But what I went along with after two attempts to stop her even _I_ admit were feeble at best was enough to rile the formidable fury women can manifest if they feel the reason is valid enough. And in Elena's mind, what went on between us is _plenty_ of reason to keep the flames of her wrath burning brightly for a good while yet.

I don't have much choice but to let her simmer and hope her fury burns out relatively soon. Elena's not the kind of person to hold onto a grudge indefinitely, I know that much. Even her ire over my brother's betrayal will inevitably fade to cool disinterest. But that doesn't mean she'll ever allow herself to go back to him. While her fury will fade, the mere fact that he blatantly lied to her over Katherine's appearance when she asked direct questions about the subject will be enough to keep her from ever trusting him with anything again.

And she and I both know damn well that while my two attempts to make her stop and think about what was going on were feeble at best, she really only has herself to blame for allowing herself to consume so much alcohol as to allow the event to happen in the first place. So the time it'll take for her fury to cool over this shouldn't be all that long. And if I am the perfect gentleman while her fury cools, she'll come to accept the facts as they are.

It's at this point that our food arrives. The very first thing I do is cut off a bite from one of the mussels on my plate and catch Elena's eye while holding it up. She pales as she realizes _precisely_ how I intend to commence with sharing our food. But she knows that she can't back out now because that would just make things awkward. She sighs and obediently cuts a stuffed ravioli in half, spears one half, and holds it up as well. We both lean forward and take the bite the other has offered into our mouths at the same time. I arch an eyebrow at her as I chew, silently saying 'see, this isn't so bad'. She averts her gaze.

Well, she's just going to have to get over her issues with me and soon. We continue eating our meal, sharing every other bite as we did the first. As our glasses of wine empty, I fill them back up. While the wine won't be nearly enough to get her to the point of intoxication she was at when I arrived back at the room, it just might loosen her hold on her fury a bit. If it does, then good. But I'm not going to count on it. There's a reason people say that hell cannot match the fury of a woman who feels she has been wronged. That saying has been around a lot longer than I have been and will probably even be passed around long after Earth is just a vague memory of man's home world that had been eaten up by its star. That is because an infuriated woman is probably the most formidable force one can have the misfortune of facing. And, unfortunately, I have infuriated the one woman I refuse to use compulsion on. But, then, I always did like a good challenge. And Elena presents an _excellent_ challenge.


	5. Shopping Pains

For Lack of a Better Name  
DG32173

Sarah: and here's chapter five. This chapter involves shopping for the things Elena will need on this road trip. Speaking of, this chapter starts with her.

_**NOTICE!**_  
Yes, I know this is the third chapter in a row with one of these, but I am _praying_ that this is the last one I will need to write for this story. My darling readers, please don't hate me for what Elena will do this chapter. I will not give spoilers but please rest assured that what she does will not last past next chapter before Damon figures out some way to fix the mess she gets herself into. My muse insists that this is one of the many hurdles that our lovebirds will have to overcome on the road to their happily forever after. And, unfortunately, I must give way before my muse's will.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_PattyFleur87:_ Elena was more furious that he didn't just push her away in her intoxicated state. She had to be reminded that she's dealing with a vampire who has his humanity switch firmly in the 'off' position. And you're right that Stefan needs to learn the history of his race. But he doesn't _want_ to be a vampire so he refuses to learn anything about them he doesn't absolutely _have_ to know. And he doesn't think he has to know about the details of blood-addicts because he's never encountered one and so doesn't believe it's all that big of a problem. We all know he's a great big fan of denial.

_JMHUW:_ I'm going to skip responding to your review of chapter 3 because you already found out that answer last chapter. As for your review of last chapter, well, even as angry as she was, she wasn't going to forget that not only is Damon a vampire but he's also a war veteran. As you saw, in the waiting game, Damon will almost never win due to his lack of patience. And you're right; Elena tends to forget that the brother whose company she's keeping right now doesn't have a trace of humanity in him at the moment. That's particularly so after he is as tender and gentle as he was when showing her how great sex can be on her very first time. And yes, Elena _is_ having a very small effect on him. Not enough for _her_ to recognize as such, but she is.

_kfulmer7:_ yeah, she did get him. And he did get her back. I keep saying that they have to conquer a lot of hurdles on the road to their happily forever after. And I wouldn't mind writing Lexi but Damon's right in that she would likely tell Stefan what is going on during the road trip that Elena's supposed to be on _alone._ I did enjoy writing the restaurant scene, particularly where they shared their food with each other.

* * *

Chapter 5  
Shopping Pains

I sigh as we step out of the air conditioned restaurant back onto the street. Eating our meal and finishing that bottle of wine had taken too long. Every time Damon insisted that we feed each other a bite of our food, I wanted to sink through the floor to avoid it. And that had been every other bite we ate of our own food. When he had suggested we share our food, I had thought we'd just reach across the table and cut off the occasional bite of the other's meal. I should have realized that he'd take the perfect opportunity I had given him to drive home the 'couple' image he wants us to pull off. Of _course_ a couple would not think twice about feeding each other bites of their own meal between bites of it themselves. So of _course_ I couldn't refuse when he made it perfectly clear that was how we would share our meals. We're supposed to be dating, after all.

Damon doesn't comment on my sigh as he turns me to the left. And he leads me right into the next building, an outlet of American Apparel. I know damn well this is _not_ the kind of store he'd take me to pick out clothes if the choice were entirely his to make. But at least he's going to 'compromise', as he put it, on what I wear. Not that I have a hope of wearing the comfortably loose clothes I prefer. He made _that_ perfectly clear with the outfit I'm wearing now, which is supposedly his idea of a 'compromise'. I wouldn't be caught _dead_ in this outfit if it weren't the only thing I have to wear that won't raise suspicions that can't be gotten rid of without him compelling anyone who happens to voice them. Not to mention that with how shredded my nurse outfit is, _this_ outfit is actually _less_ revealing than the one I had arrived in town wearing.

I take in the clothes we pass on our way to the women's section. At least these seem halfway normal rather than screaming out for people to eat up my body with their eyes. Those kinds of looks have _always_ left me feeling dirty. The only reason Damon's open appreciation for my body in our room didn't do the same was because I had enough alcohol in my system at the time to completely negate my sensible side.

My hunch that Damon will put his voice into every outfit I contemplate trying on is proven true when he points out in no uncertain term that he gets a say in what I get to buy because it's _his_ money paying for it. I sigh and obediently submit myself to wearing what he decides is passable as a 'compromise' between our tastes. There's no way I can get any of my own stuff sent to me and I need clothes to wear. As we browse through the selection of women's clothes and debate over what I will and won't wear, I give the majority of my mental attention over to my own thoughts. Shopping and debating over purchases is almost second nature after how many shopping trips I went on with Caroline and Bonnie.

Damon had received several calls throughout our meal. Each time, he took one look at the Caller ID and ignored the call. I have a sinking suspicion that Stefan was trying to contact him. After the last call that he ignored, he turned his phone off. When we finally make our way out of the store, Damon's carrying several bags containing ten outfits for me that we were both able to lower our standards enough to agree on, a couple of shorts-and-camisole outfits for me to sleep in, undergarments and a bikini for me, black swim trunks for him, and a pair of sandals as well as two pairs of heels for me. I told him in no uncertain terms that if I'm going to humiliate myself by wearing the stuff he talked me into buying, _he's_ carrying the bags on any shopping trip we go on. He had held up his hands in a gesture of peace at that and said it would be downright rude to make a lady carry the bags on any occasion. At that, many of the women nearby turned dark looks on their men as if blaming _them_ for being so disrespectful as to make them carry the shopping bags. Those men had the good sense to look particularly sheepish at having Damon show them up in proper etiquette. Not only that, he further showed how good a 'boyfriend' he is by carrying all those heavy bags in one hand and holding the door to the store for me, after which he followed me out and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders.

I have to fight very hard to resist the urge to grind my teeth in frustration. I know damn well everything he's doing is done with an eye to winning me over for some twisted reason. Okay, maybe the reason isn't twisted. Maybe he really _does_ want to win my heart. But how can I trust someone who's spent the majority of his life playing Casanova to anyone he happened to want to woo into his bed with something as precious as my _heart?_ Look how badly I had bungled things by leaping into a relationship with Stefan! But, now that I've had time to think things through, I'm starting to realize that my relationship with Stefan was made on the rebound. Not on the rebound from my relationship with Matt, no, of course not. But on the rebound of getting back to life after shutting down after my parents died.

Anyways, if someone who pulls off such a damn good act of being 'perfect boyfriend material' can break my heart, how can I trust it to someone who's become something of an immortal Casanova? And an immortal Casanova who hasn't a trace of humanity on top of that? I just don't know how I can trust someone like that not to hurt me when the one who appeared to be 'perfect boyfriend material' and who broke my heart is also the immortal Casanova's own brother. Admittedly, they are nothing like each other, neither in appearance nor in personality. There's a vague similarity in facial structure, but, then, they both admitted to having pure Italian heritage as their grandparents on both sides had emigrated from Italy. And people sharing the same pure heritage tend to have a similarity in facial structure if nothing else. If it weren't for the fact that they both admit with severe regret to being brothers, I honestly wouldn't have guessed it.

Normally, you'd think I might be able to trust someone who is such a polar opposite to the man who broke my heart. But the trouble with that theory is that, in a way, Damon is an even worse bet than Stefan in terms of a committed relationship. He's spent nearly a century-and-a-half pining over one woman while using countless others and no few men for his own enjoyment. I know the vervaine in my necklace keeps him out of my head but I also know that he can quite easily snatch it from my neck and have me at his mercy if he so wanted to. The fact that he hasn't done so only proves that he likes the thought of the challenge of winning my heart more than simply coercing it into his hands using his Power. If I know anything about Damon it's that if you present Damon with what he perceives is a challenge, he will damn well take that challenge just to prove to you that there is no challenge he can't conquer.

And combining my vervaine necklace with my refusal to even consider the possibility of _ever_ handing my heart over to him has only given Damon what he probably perceives as the ultimate challenge. And there is nothing I can do to shake him from the challenge. He's the kind of guy who _loves_ having women and men throw themselves at him. And if they _don't_ do that, well, he just uses it as a challenge to win them over, whether through his infinite abundance of charm or with his Power. I can't chase him away by throwing myself at him. Not only would I feel disgusting for resorting to such disgraceful actions, not only will he see right through what I'm doing, but his lack of humanity will make it perfectly acceptable in his mind to use such an attempt to get between my legs _again._ I'll be the one suffering for it and he'll just be highly amused that I thought such an attempt would scare his Casanova's heart off.

Then there's that stupid addiction I have to his blood. Given the way Lady Luck is treating me, Damon's most likely right in that I _am_ addicted to _just_ his blood. Wonderful. But, of course, he's going to want to confirm the theory at some point by cooperating with another vampire. I know it'll have to be one who has already earned at least _some_ trust from him. That way he'll be sure that they won't try to do anything to me he wouldn't agree to. At least I'm sure enough of his selfishness that the only thing he will agree to let another vampire do that involves me in any way would be to test his theory about which type of blood-addict I am.

The dry irritation in my throat and the thought of biting Damon's neck hard enough to break skin tells me that he's at least right in that I'm highly addicted to the only available source of vampire blood I have right now. At the moment, that feeling is very mild and I can easily block it from my mind. But if Damon's right, then it's going to get harder to ignore and _keep_ getting harder until I _do_ give in and drink his blood.

Suddenly, Damon turns us into Kendra Scott Jewelry. I frown at him and put on the brakes right inside the door. "What do you think you're doing?" I demand.

"I am buying you something to replace that hideous piece of junk my brother gave you. I refuse to allow it to continue burning my retinas every time I look at you," he replies, using his immense strength to force me to start walking again, though no one watching us will realize that something had _forced_ me to start walking again or risk falling over.

"Welcome to Kendra Scott Jewelry, is there anything I can assist you with?" the young man behind the display counter asks when we are within easy talking distance.

"Yes, I'd like to get something special to replace my girlfriend's ridiculously tacky necklace," Damon says. "A locket would be preferable."

"Let's see what we can come up with," the young man replies.

The two are off in a conversation about a series of increasingly extravagant lockets. My eyes just keep getting bigger and bigger as the price tags of those lockets increase on par with the extravagance. Finally, Damon's critically examining an absolutely gorgeous twenty-four karat white gold heart-shaped locket studded with tiny silver pearls around the outer edge of the front with a heart-shaped incandescent Alexandrite in the center of the pearls. The price tag is absolutely _ridiculous!_ My mouth is working, _trying_ to protest being able to accept such an expensive piece of jewelry. But as soon as the man had told Damon the price, my brain and vocal chords ceased functioning simultaneously. Seriously, who the hell spends more than _two thousand dollars_ on _jewelry?_ If Damon gets this for me, it's going to be worth more than all my other personal belongings _combined!_ And unfortunately for me, Damon seems deadset on making me a walking target for the fouler parts of civilization that could tell that such a piece is worth a small fortune with just a glance. He seems quite taken with it and I am quite terrified by what wearing it constantly will mean. Those two gemstones happen to both be birthstones for the month we were both born in. And cue Damon to make that particular comment to the man behind the counter, who becomes determined to sell it to us so that it would symbolize our 'love for each other'. As if! Damon hasn't a shred of humanity and without humanity, you are completely incapable of an emotion like love! You can desire to possess someone's heart for yourself but that doesn't mean you love them. It takes having a _heart,_ having _humanity,_ to truly love someone.

It's in that moment that I find what I need to keep from falling victim to Damon's play for my heart. Until he starts showing that he has the capability of humanity, of having a _heart,_ I can't risk giving my heart to him. It's with that knowledge that I am able to build walls around my heart and reinforce them to being impenetrable to any man who doesn't _prove_ to me he has a human heart even if _he_ isn't human. With that, I finally relax under Damon's arm. He casts a curious glance at me, obviously sensing that something's changed significantly just now. But he shoves his curiosity to the side in favor of studying the necklace that is now in his hands.

I find that with these new walls around my heart, even the thought of doing whatever it takes to get Damon's blood flowing over my tongue and down my throat doesn't bother me as much as it had. Because these walls will protect my heart from falling victim to what those actions would have led it to believe. Until he proves to me beyond the shadow of a doubt that he is capable of possessing a human heart, I will believe it's all about the sex for him and _know_ it's all about the blood for me. On that note, I add another layer of defense by encasing my heart in several layers of ice. If I were thinking clearly rather than becoming more and more focused on the blood pulsing through his veins, I would realize that this very act is the worst thing I can possibly do. But that blood flowing beneath the pale skin of the arm around my shoulders is slowly driving me insane because it's not also flowing down my throat. By the time it will be made clear to me what I did in desperation to keep my heart safe, it will be too late because the barriers will have already set into place and cut off my heart even from me.

**Damon**

As I finalize the deal for the locket with the sales clerk, I sense that something has gone wrong within Elena. Seriously wrong. The aura radiating off her has changed from warm-but-conflicted to cold-and-still. This is _not_ what I wanted. _Not_ what I had planned to happen. I did _not_ want Katherine in human form. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that I might have gotten just that. And now that I have her, I have to figure out what I can possibly do to change her _back_ to Elena, the warm, vibrant girl I would _much_ rather have with me.

But the human behind the counter doesn't realize things had suddenly changed between us. He's assuring me that the locket will be well worth the price. I don't let off a single sign that I had noticed the sudden change in Elena, not even to the girl who I now find myself desperately wanting to get _away_ from when mere seconds ago I had been thinking of the many different ways I wanted to show her just how much fun I can be, in _and_ out of the bedroom.

I finally agree that the locket is worth every penny of the price the store's asking and that I'll take it. I wave aside his words about payment plans, telling him that I'll pay the full price _now._ His eyes bulge a little at that while I pull out my black debit card. I pass it over with a pleasant smile as he struggles to recover his composure. It _is_ understandable that most people react to finding out how wealthy I am by a brief lapse of composure.

I don't publicize my wealth the way some humans do, with all the blitz and bling. If you are careful and look long and hard, you can find a car of the same make and model as mine in relatively good condition, maybe even the same shade of blue. Any good haggler can get such a car for a steal from someone who has no clue as to what they have. Or, if you're really lucky, you could even inherit such a car from a relative. Many people mistake my clothes as the kind anyone in the working class can afford. My watch is a touch pricy but nothing that can't be saved up for.

The average human would look at me and mistake me for a young man of the working class with a taste in classic cars. If you know what to _look_ for, though, you can tell that I am indeed wealthy. The average young man of the working class can _not_ afford even _one_ John Varvatos shirt, after all. Or any of the other big name designer styles I wear. Subtlety is the key for a vampire to fit in among humans. Vampires _don't_ want to stand out because standing out gets you noticed. And a vampire who gets noticed is pretty soon a dead vampire. But subtlety _doesn't_ require giving up the comforts wealth gives you. You just can't be flashy about your wealth.

I decide that I'll wait to give the necklace to Elena until we're back in our room. It'll be easier to give her the small baggie of tiny sprigs of dried vervaine I carry around so she can put one in the locket out of the eyes of all these humans. I accept the little bag holding the velvet jewelry box containing the locket and tuck it into one of the bags containing her clothes. I then accept my debit card and put it back in my wallet before tucking my wallet back into its pocket on the inside of my jacket.

I then guide Elena out of the store and back onto the sidewalk. We walk a few streets over to a CVS/Pharmacy to get the last of the things she'll need, including a couple large boxes of tampons. I make her hold onto the bag with _those._ There are some things even _I_ won't carry around in the public eye. After we are done at CVS, we head back to the motel. Once there, I stop at my car and make her pick out an outfit for tomorrow. I grab the little bag containing the jewelry box holding the locket I bought her before rearranging the trunk of the Camaro so that what we bought will fit with the rest. I grab an outfit for tomorrow as well. Once that's done and the trunk is shut and locked again, we head inside the hotel and go back to our room.

"Damon, I want blood," she says once the door is shut behind us.

A chill runs down my spine because even her voice has become too much like Katherine's for comfort. "No," I tell her firmly.

That startles her enough that she whirls to face me. "Why not?" she asks.

"Because whatever you did in the jewelry store has pretty much turned you into Katherine in human form," I say. "And I want _nothing_ to do with anything that even _remotely_ reminds me of the bitch."

That shocks her so much she stumbles back a step. "Doesn't she mean the world to you?" she asks hesitantly.

I let out a humorless chuckle. "It took me too long to wake up and realize just what a bitch she had been," I reply snidely. "You were her polar opposite up until whatever you did in the jewelry store. There are even subtle and not-so-subtle differences between your body and hers; for all that you and she wear the same face. But I didn't need to look at your body to tell that you were Elena. All I had to do was get close enough and your aura alone would assure me as to that much. But now your aura is like ice. Just like hers was. Even your _voice_ sounds like Katherine's and not Elena's. As I said, I want _nothing_ to do with anything that remotely reminds me of her. And you might as well _be_ her in human form for all the differences there are now. So, no, I am not sharing my blood with you. I'm not even going to share my bed with you. Tonight, you take the bed. I'll be taking the couch. And don't even _consider_ trying to come anywhere _near_ me. I'll know the instant you do and you won't like the consequences. Now, I'm getting a shower to wash as much of you _off_ me as possible. And where before, having your blood in my veins had given me a bit of a buzz, now I find I can't _wait_ for it to be gone. Whatever you were hoping to accomplish with whatever you did to lock away what made you Elena and _not_ Katherine, you screwed up _big time._ Right now, I could care less _what_ happens to you. And it's going to _stay_ that way until _Elena_ comes back and this Katherine persona you have is gone."

With that, I turn my back to her and set my clothes on the dresser, grabbing my boxer-briefs before heading into the bathroom. I make sure to shut _and_ lock the door behind me. Before the jewelry story, I would have _gladly_ invited Elena to share a downright dirty shower with me. But I'm not dealing with Elena now. I'm dealing with a Katherine-persona. And anyone remotely like her is _not_ welcome near me. I only put up with touching her in public because I had very little choice.

Before she locked away whatever it is that made Elena so very different from Katherine, I had been looking forward to getting back to the motel room because I _knew_ her blood addiction would be building up to the boiling point the longer we were on the streets. And with sating her addiction to my blood, I would be able to sate my addiction to _her._ Not gonna happen now.

A while later, we are both lying down on our separate sleeping perches, trying to make our bodies get some sleep. As much as _I_ detest the persona that is occupying the body of the girl in that bed, my body _still_ desires to mingle with hers in the most intimate of dances. Denying it the pleasure of doing so is making for a helluva time trying to get some sleep. As for _her_ reason for being restless, it is most certainly due to the withdrawal from my blood. I stuck true to my word of denying her my blood until Elena comes back out to play. Unfortunately, if she's still not back to herself in the morning, I just might have to call someone in Mystic Falls to come get her. I refuse to spend more time in her company as she is now than I absolutely have to.

The night wears on as we struggle to get some sleep. I technically don't _need_ sleep, but it's better than knowing I'm in the same room with this Katherine-persona in Elena's body.

* * *

Sarah: _please_ forgive me for my muse's insistence on temporarily turning Elena into Katherine, but I can assure you that she _will_ return to normal in the next chapter! Review and tell me what you think.


	6. Giving In

For Lack of a Better Name  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter 6. As I promised, Elena returns to her normal self this chapter. And when she does, Damon finally gives in to her addiction to his blood in return for her giving into his sexual desire for _her._ This time the only thing that is driving Elena's inhibitions away is her addiction to his blood. Okay, review replies and then on with the chapter. By the way, as I have for the last several chapters, I will also start this chapter with Elena.

_**NOTICE**_  
Yes, I know I said I had hoped last chapter's notice section would be the last for the fanfic. But I hadn't been expecting the hurdle our lovebirds will have to begin overcoming this chapter to appear so soon. As it is, the hurdle they are going to face revolves around the all-important issue of Damon's lack of humanity. That not-so-little setback in their relationship is going to make a big impact on the story starting this chapter. And the impact will last until Damon's humanity starts returning. That won't be for a while. So, please bear in mind that one of the major setbacks for any progression in their relationship will start making its impact this chapter.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_JMHUW:_ as I said, Elena's mess won't last past this chapter. But another hurdle they need to overcome will be introduced. Here's the next chapter.

_rcardinals4:_ Elena's new persona is gone this chapter. But a new hurdle will be introduced for the lovebirds to overcome. I agree, denying her blood is a damn good way to punish her.

_damon-elena-delena:_ I am not going to give spoilers, so you'll have to wait and see what happens in the story as the chapters are posted. As for the update schedule, it is only as I finish the chapter and my beta checks over them that I update. If my muse is stubborn or if life gets busy, then the updates will have to wait for a chapter to be completed and my beta to check it over.

_PattyFleur87:_ yeah, Elena was pretty bad when she locked away her heart. I agree that Damon did have to suffer for it.

_kfulmer7:_ I also liked how my imagination pictured the locket. And yeah, there was no _way_ I was going to have Damon _not_ realize that Elena had suddenly locked away what _makes_ her Elena. But because he has no humanity right now, he has no idea that it's her heart that makes her different from Katherine.

* * *

Chapter 6  
Giving In

Okay, I'll admit it, I have _never_ been more miserable than I am as I wake up from what _couldn't_ have been more than maybe an hour of sleep, tops. And that's for the entire night. I will never again mock an addict going through withdrawal by saying that they just need to apply their willpower to fight against the symptoms. Admittedly, _my_ addiction is the kind you can _never_ recover from, according to Damon. And I have a feeling that the speed the withdrawal from his blood is going at is an increased pace from other kinds of addictions. Certainly the addicts in Mystic Falls were able to operate for more than a couple hours at a time between ingesting their drug of choice.

But by the time Damon and I got back to the room, I was half-blind with the _need_ to drink his blood. Only to have him deny me because he claims I have become too much like Katherine for him to want to have a thing to do with me. All I did was protect my heart from him. How does that make me like Katherine? That question and this addiction to his blood have worked together to keep my up most of the night and make what little sleep I got restless.

I sit up, deciding that it's pointless to try to get any more sleep. My heart threatens to give out when I see Damon studying his phone with an intense expression that signals he's going through some internal debate. "What are you doing?" I ask, though I have a sinking feeling I know what he's trying to decide.

"I'm debating the pros and cons of who to call to come pick you up," he replies tersely, not even glancing at me.

"Wait, what? But, you said the addiction …," I start frantically.

"I said that a blood-addict will never be able to be free of their addiction, the withdrawal will just get worse and worse until they give in again," he replies. "Don't care. I brought _Elena_ on this road trip with me. I get Katherine for my troubles, so I'm sending you back. Maybe someone back in Mystic Falls may be able to bring Elena back out."

"But you _can't_ do this to me," I protest.

"I can and I am," he says. "Just trying to figure out who I can call to come get you without getting my head chewed off too much."

I fling myself out of bed and stumble towards him. I try to snatch his phone from his hand, but he easily dodges my frantic, wild attempts. "Don't send me back," I beg.

He frowns thoughtfully. Finally he grabs my wrists with one hand. "I'll make you a deal," he sneers. "Bring what makes you Elena and not Katherine back out to play by the time I get out of the shower, and I won't call someone to pick you up. I'll even share my blood with you and we'll continue with our travels. But if I still get the sensation that I'm in the presence of Katherine when I get out of the bathroom, I'm calling someone to come pick you up. While I'm in the shower, I will decide on whom that call will go to. This road trip is for Elena and me. Katherine's personality has no place in it. I'm going to take extra care as I shower so that you have a little longer to figure out how to undo what you did in the jewelry store yesterday. You have no more than half an hour to make it happen or you're heading back to Mystic Falls. You should know that if a blood-addict goes _too_ long without their drug of choice, the withdrawal not _only_ gets progressively worse but it will inevitably kill them after driving them completely mad. If nothing else, I'm sure _that_ should motivate you into fixing whatever screw-up you made in the jewelry store yesterday. One way or another, this Katherine persona you've taken on is getting _out_ of my un-life."

With that, he releases my wrists while at the same time shoving me backwards, I fly backwards to land on the bed. The mattress is just firm enough to drive all the air from my lungs and send stars flying across my vision upon impact. By the time I've recovered, he's already locked himself into the bathroom.

I tremble as I realize just how serious he is about the options he's giving me. Either I figure out how to tear down the defenses around my heart before he comes back out or he's pretty much sentencing me to death after being driven completely insane from being denied access to his blood. And I'd rather have my heart broken a million times over than die after going completely insane. So I set about taking the metaphorical jackhammer to the defenses I had built up in seconds. I know I'm going to need every second Damon gives me to get them back down because I did my damnedest to make them impenetrable, except by the key I had chosen.

It takes nearly twenty-five full minutes before I finally break through the last layer of ice encasing my heart. Barely five seconds later, Damon walks out of the bathroom. He studies me with an inscrutable look for several long minutes before nodding. "Looks like I won't have to make that call after all," he says, a sinfully sexy smirk on his lips.

That's when I suddenly notice that he is only wearing a towel around his waist and I feel my cheeks heat up as I quickly avert my gaze from the tented portion in the front. But I had known that he won't be giving me his blood without expecting something in return, no matter that he had tacked giving me his blood onto the deal as an afterthought. The very thing he wants from me could lead to me inadvertently placing my heart in his hands. And Damon had admitted yesterday to spending more than a century-and-a-half breaking countless hearts. There is no way I can be sure that he's not going to add my heart to the stack if I give it to him. He doesn't have a shred of humanity in him. He's purely a predator that has seen something he wants to possess and he's going to do whatever it takes to possess it.

Unfortunately for me, I'm addicted to his blood. And that very resource is all he needs to offer up to have me climbing in bed with him. I'm already half-crazed from being deprived of it and for the reward of drinking his blood; I can't seem to find a damn thing wrong with sleeping with him. My head knows I shouldn't, but I'm being driven by the addiction more so than my brain.

Damon chuckles as he goes over to my IPod to set the song we had sex to yesterday on repeat. Then he comes over to lie down on his side next to me, his head propped in his hand. "You know it wouldn't be fair for me to give you my blood without getting anything in return," he says softly, resting his hand gently on my hip. I can feel the coolness of his skin through the thin cotton of the short-shorts I put on last night for bed. "I showed you yesterday just what blood-sharing does to those involved in it. Even if you just drank my blood, that would leave _me_ in a very uncomfortable position." The hand on my hip slowly slides up underneath my camisole to cup my bare breast. I gasp at the touch. "Elena, look at me," he commands softly. I reluctantly raise my eyes to his. His eyes are full of liquid seduction. "You know damn well after yesterday I can give you an experience you won't find with anyone else. And in return, I'll let you sate your addiction to my blood." At the mention of his blood, my eyes lower of their own accord to the pulse throbbing at that juncture on his neck I fed from yesterday. My mouth suddenly gets very dry and an arid, bitter feeling enters my throat. A cool finger tucks itself under my chin and tilts my head back up until I'm looking into ice blue eyes filled with a stern warning. "If we do this, there had better not be a repeat of yesterday's temper-tantrum," he warns. "I was serious when I told you that I don't give out third chances. You're half-crazed with withdrawal. I can see that. But I can _also_ see that your pesky sensibilities haven't been overridden as of yet. We do this; you're doing it in spite of your so-called 'sensible' side telling you this is not what you want. As I told you, I _don't_ force myself on my partner. To drill that into your head, I'm going to wait for _you_ to make the first move. You can climb out of this bed right now and tell me there's no way in hell you'd sleep with me. And I'll accept that. Doesn't mean that I won't keep trying to win you over, because I most certainly _will_ keep trying. If you climb out of this bed, I'll let you drink my blood and then take care of the problem _that_ will give me on my own. Remove that camisole, this will happen and there will be blood-sharing involved. Either way, you will be able to drink my blood so there is absolutely _no_ pressure on either option. It's up to you: either remove your camisole or climb out of bed. Take all the time you need to make your decision. It's barely dawn and the deadline for checkout is still _hours_ away."

He removes his finger from my chin and shifts his position to give me space. I'm surprised to find that I immediately miss being in physical contact with him. As I think back on last night, I realize that was another thing that left me tossing and turning: not having him close and _knowing_ that if I tried to close the distance, he would follow through on the promises of severe consequences. My body must have grown used to close proximity with him those thirty-six hours I had been asleep in the passenger seat of his Camaro. Sure, he had to have stopped for gas at least a few times, but I doubt he had gotten out of the car other than that.

I find that the urge to reach out and touch him is nearly as strong as the need for his blood. I'm dismayed that I'm not only addicted to his _blood_ but also to _him._ This can't be healthy, not when he's taken on the role of the immortal Casanova. Even if there were a way to get rid of this addiction to his blood, I doubt that I'd ever be able to handle being very far from him ever again. I'll never be free of him now.

I sigh, closing my eyes as I slowly raise my camisole over my head before tossing it off the bed. "Was that so hard?" Damon asks softly, reaching his hand over to pull me flush against him.

Yes, I want to say. Yes, it was the hardest and most awful thing I have ever done. But I can't give voice to it. Not when my body almost melts into his. Not when his fingers dancing across the bare skin of my back send swells of _need_ to that place between my legs, that place that will only ever know _him._ This is what my body wants, what my body needs. But I raise my eyes to his; see no trace of anything remotely human, and my heart breaks, as I knew it would. He is just a predator who has found his chosen mate and that is all. But I need so much more than that. I need a _man's_ heart to love and cherish me, to be ready and willing to share the universe with me. Even if that man's heart resides in the chest of a member of the most powerful predatory species on the planet, it will be enough. But there is no humanity in Damon. Just a powerful, intelligent predator that has chosen its mate.

As I raise my lips to his, I feel my heart crumbling to pieces. _This_ is what I had erected those barriers to protect it from. And now, this is all I can have. It will take a miracle to bring Damon in touch with the humanity he once had. And I don't think I'm capable of working such a miracle with a heart as broken as mine. I give in to what my body needs while my heart and soul suffer.

**Damon**

As Elena's lips touch mine, I'm startled by the feel of them. And I'm not talking about the _physical_ feel. What's driving her kiss is pure, mechanical _need._ The need of the body rather than the need of the soul. This is _not_ what I wanted either. There isn't anything remotely reminiscent of Katherine. But there isn't anything reminiscent of Elena either. I realize with a touch of regret that something had gone terribly wrong in my plan to make her mine. Her body is now mine, I can tell that much. Her body needs _me_ as much as it needs my blood. But what makes her _Elena_ is nowhere to be found in her touch.

I want to tear myself away from her. And if it weren't for my own body's need of hers, I would do so. I hadn't gotten even a wink of sleep last night. I was too busy wrestling with my body's cries to get off the couch, climb in this bed with her, and take her repeatedly until we were both too spent to move. And now that her body, at least, is showing her need of me, my own body has wrestled control from me to sate my own need of her.

But this is _not_ how I want her. As I pull away from her lips to allow her to get some much needed oxygen in her lungs, I happen to glance at her eyes. And what I see there sends a thrill of terror through me: the roaring fire of life has been all but extinguished. There are coals still burning, but the fire is gone. I have seen that look in too many eyes, put there before I erased my existence from the mind behind those eyes, to not know what has happened. In giving in to her body's very obvious need of me, Elena's heart had shattered. But _why?_ I obviously need her just as much as she needs me! Is that not enough?

A whisper of a thought niggles at the back of my mind, hinting at why _need_ is not enough for her. But when I reach for that thought, it disappears as if it was made of smoke. I'm left floundering as my body shows her how precious she is, how devoted I am to her. But the more I try to impress upon her how much I _need_ her, the more mechanical her actions become. It makes absolutely _no_ sense. Even when we sink our teeth into each other, her actions seem driven only by her need of my blood rather than _want_ of sharing such an intimate exchange with me.

I have no idea how to fix this mess I made. I don't even know what I did to _make_ this fiasco happen! I want her and need her! I would rather take my ring off in the sun than do without her! But apparently that is just not _enough!_ But _what_ is? _What_ is it that she needs from me? I'd give it to her gladly if I only know what it is!

Even when we reach full climax together, I can sense that I have only appeased her body, not _her._ I morph my face back to that of the man I once was, withdrawing my fangs from her flesh. As before, I have to carefully pry her off of me to get her to stop feasting on my blood. I rearrange us so that her back is pressed against my front, my arm around her waist to keep her there. If she _tried_ to get up and get away from me, though, I would let her up. I want her _willingly_ at my side, addicted to my blood or not. She doesn't make any indication of wanting free of my grasp, but she doesn't relax into me either. This most intimate of positions we are in now is something I have never done with another lover. I find that I like it, but I would like it _more_ if she weren't so _tense_ against me. It's as if she is waiting for the other shoe to fall, expecting me at any minute to do something to hurt her. Doesn't she see that I won't, that I _can't_ without hurting _myself_ at the same time? But apparently she doesn't see, doesn't _sense_ that I am wholly devoted to _her._ Or, if she does, she is reading it as something entirely different!

We lay like this for an hour before I sigh. She tenses further. "We still have a long ways to go before we get to Vegas," I say softly. "And _you_ still need a human breakfast."

She nods and I remove my arm from her waist. She doesn't waste time in climbing out of bed and I feel a strange constriction in my chest, a sharp pain lancing through the constriction. What does it mean? Rather than let her see that pain, I get out of bed as well and we get dressed. When I try to steal a kiss, she pretends she doesn't see and turns away. I frown but am forced to let it slide.

I pick up the small bag containing the box with the locket I bought for her yesterday. I pass it to her along with the small baggie of tiny sprigs of vervaine I carry around. Elena obediently removes the necklace my brother gave her and replaces it with the one I bought for her yesterday, tucking the smallest sprig of vervaine into the locket before clasping it shut again. I take the necklace Stefan gave her and toss it into the trashcan that contains my ruined shirt from yesterday.

We both go over the room to make sure we don't forget anything that's coming with us. Then I wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her out of the room and to the front desk for checkout. Within an hour, we're on Highway 71 with Austin rapidly fading from the rearview. And I'm still trying to figure out what it is Elena needs from me that will put her heart back together. But I can't ask her because I know she'll deflect any questions on the topic. So if I can't figure it out on my own, my plans for us are going to be in a rut for a good long while. Just great.

This girl throws one curve ball after another and I've never been a fan of baseball. So what if it's the American game and I have been an American since I was born in 1840. I never could get into the damn sport and now I've set my sights on an all-star pitcher who specializes in curve balls. Well, I'm just gonna have to get damn good at the game and fast. I refuse to give up on winning her over. I'm not taking her back to Mystic Falls until she is mine, body, mind, and soul. I've only got her body right now and I still need to win over the mind and soul within the body.

I pride myself in never backing down from a challenge, whether it's just a perceived challenge or a real one. I'm not going to stop until Elena is _mine._


End file.
